Prince's Choice of Doom
by KeikoHPfan
Summary: It's all Prince's fault anyway. And now Draco has to deal with a big problem and a familiar face. Just his luck, really. DH compliant, except for the epilogue. Will be slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **Yes, I'm back. I know, it has been a ridiculously short time since the last chapter of my previous story, but... You know how it is... It's just impossible not to come back. So, enjoy this new one, and please review ^^ !

"Come here, you stupid flea bag! Where the hell are you hiding now?"

He knew it from the start. He never should have brought that dog home a few months ago, but he just couldn't resist the kind brown eyes and the way the homeless dog had followed him down the street. Shit. The last thing he needs is to wander through Diagon Alley during daytime, he's lucky nobody has recognized him yet. He finally spots the light golden fur around a dark corner, at the beginning of Knockturn Alley, of all places – as if he needs anyone seeing him there.

"Prince, come here now! I don't want to- oh shit, what did you find?"

The golden retriever is seated next to what looks like a dead body. Prince is whining pitifully and nudging insistently the man's arm with his snout.

"Prince, come! There's no way I can be found with a corpse! Prince!" Draco whispers urgently, trying to get the dog to come back to him.

But Prince doesn't move, and he's almost crying now, and suddenly the dead body moves his head. Which means it isn't dead at all. Fuck. Draco hesitates. On the one hand, the logical part of his mind is shouting at him to get Prince and to run away as quickly as possible. Which is exactly what every self-respecting Slytherin would do, really. But on the other hand, he can't stop looking at this man, who is obviously badly injured. It seems as if he has been beaten and then just dropped there, in Knockturn Alley. His attackers probably thought he was dead. Before he can realize what he's doing, he's kneeling next to Prince to look at the man.

It's a dark haired man, wearing torn black robes. He's laying on his front, one arm trapped under his chest and the other one next to his face, which is partially hidden behind dirty strands of hair. There's blood on his arm and chin. Draco looks around, but Knockturn Alley is desert and already dark, even if it's only 4pm. He brushes the strands of dark hair away from the man's face, and gasps loudly.

It just can't be. It's just not possible to have such a bad luck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Draco hastily casts several privacy and silencing spells, as well as a strong Disillusionment Charm on the three of them. Because under the bruises and the dried blood and the dirty hair, it's Potter. What the hell happened to him? And where has he been all this time? It's been at least two years since Draco last heard from him.

And what should Draco do now? There's no way he can call for help or simply Apparate them to St Mungo's, because everybody would simply assume that Draco is responsible for their Savior current state. Fuck, he has to think, and he has to think quickly. Prince starts to lick Potter's face, apparently decided to wake him – or to clean him, at least. Potter shudders helplessly from time to time, and he seems to have trouble to breathe. Draco knows he cannot leave him there to die. He couldn't even let Prince alone in the streets, how could he let a man like Potter bleed or choke to death there?

He's pretty sure he will regret it soon enough, but for now, he has to get them out of here and try to save Potter. And isn't it fucking ironic?

Draco takes Potter's hand and slips an arm around Prince to Apparate them away. He hopes Potter is strong enough to bear it, but there's no other choice right now. Hopefully Potter will survive it, or Draco will have a very big problem.

He knew he shouldn't have taken Prince. Stupid dog, he thinks as his sight becomes blurred and his stomach protests painfully.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Potter has been hexed so many times that Draco cannot identify all the spells. His whole body is bruised, there are several nasty cuts on his upper body, and his back looks as if someone has stabbed him with a knife – which is probably why his left lung is punctured. He has badly bitten his tongue, too, and Draco knows it's probably due to the Cruciatus curse. Draco sighs, biting his lip as he tries to remain calm and professional. Prince is seated next to him and stil whines from time to time, and it really doesn't help.

Potter is on Draco's bed, and he has not moved or stirred at all, not even when Draco has removed his clothes. The blonde knows he has to be careful. Potter is weak, and his magic seems even weaker. He has to be healed cautiously and slowly, or his body won't bear the shock. Draco wishes Poppy Pomfrey was here. She had been a wonderful friend and mentor during his Healer training, and she would certainly help him to decide.

But he's alone right now, and he has to take the right decision. It would not do to have a dead Hero in his bedroom. Not at all. Besides, Draco has never lost a patient before, and he does not intend to start now.

And Potter has always been a stubborn prat. Surely he wouldn't just die now, after all he's been through with the Dark Lord during their school years and the war. Though he could want to, just to piss Draco off. Well, Draco likes challenges anyway.

He slowly raises his wand and closes his eyes, trying to focus solely on his healing, trying to forget it's Harry fucking Potter who's currently agonizing on his bed. He can do it. Even if only to see Potter's face when he'll wake up. Draco smirks and begins to chant the spells.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN:** Here's the second chapter! Hope you'll enjoy it, and please R&R!

Draco collapses on the couch of his living-room. Six hours of healing and he's still not sure if Potter will make it. His body seems to slowly recover, but he remains unconscious and is still fighting to live. And he definitely will have some scars, because the healing didn't occur fast enough. And his magic is still extremely weak, and that's something Draco doesn't understand. Someone as powerful as Potter shouldn't be so magically depleted, even after injuries as bad as his were. His attackers clearly didn't want the Savior to survive. Most of the injuries were meant to hurt, to make him suffer as much as they could, but then he was stabbed several times in the back – and that's a fucking cowardly act, especially for a wizard as brave as Potter – and that was meant to kill him. Nearly did, too. Potter was probably tortured for hours. The thought makes Draco want to throw up. He has witnessed enough torture scenes in Malfoy Manor to give him nightmares for the rest of his life, but picturing Potter being cursed and hurt like that is somehow worse. Draco had never liked the man, but he always had been impressed by the sheer power, the joyful confidence and that strong will to live, to survive anything that Potter had shown, even as a child. It had been as if nothing could break him. Not the loss of his parents. Not a shitty childhood. Not the worse Dark Lord ever willing to kill him. Not being bullied and mocked in school. Not the loss of his godfather, of Lupin. Nothing. But the man currently lying in Draco's bed looks broken. Hopefully, it's just his body. Hopefully his mind is as strong as ever. Draco doesn't understand why, but he wants Potter to stand and fight. He wants him to seek revenge over the bastards that did this to him. He wants to see the hero again. It would be wrong for him to lose his will to fight, somehow.

Prince jumps on the couch and lies next to Draco, and the blonde tries to relax and to get some sleep. He has to rest. The following hours and days will be tiring.

HP-HP-HP-HP

There are soft noises coming from the bedroom, and that is probably what has woken him up. Draco stands up carefully to avoid disturbing Prince who's happily drooling on the couch in his sleep and slowly makes his way to the bedroom. He hopes Potter will not freak out too much, and tries to open the door as softly as he can.

Potter is trying to sit up – which is a very bad idea with his injuries, but then again the raven haired man has never been very smart – looking around him with wild eyes like a trapped animal. Shit.

"Er, Potter?" Draco tentatively says while entering the room, keeping his voice as low and soft as he can.

Potter looks up and the green eyes widen – and Draco realizes that the glasses are missing, and he wonders how bad Potter's sight is.

"It's Draco Malfoy. You didn't have your glasses, I don't know if you can see me properly."

Potter panicks then, trashing wildy on the bed as he's obviously trying to stand up and Draco tries to come nearer to the bed without scaring Potter even more.

"Calm down, Potter, you're safe, please, you're only going to hurt yourself!"

But the raven haired doesn't seem to hear anything. He stops only when Prince jumps on the bed, launching himself at Potter, his tail moving from left to right in joy. Draco rolls his eyes. Of course his own dog would adore Potter. At least it has startled Potter enough to make him freeze.

"That's Prince. He found you in Knockturn Alley. You were badly injured, Potter. Do you remember?"

Potter nods quietly, absently running his right hand over Prince's head and back, much to the delight of the golden retriever.

"You're safe. It's my flat. It's heavily warded, and nobody knows you're here. I won't harm you."

Potter looks a bit dubious, and well, Draco can understand why. They have quite a history, after all.

"You probably don't know, but I'm a Healer. I tried to heal you as best as I could, but I will have to perform some of the spells progressively over the next days. You were really weak and I had to be careful. You'll have to lie down for a few days if you want to heal properly."

Draco doesn't say anything about the scars or his worry about Potter's magic – right now, it is more important to make Potter understand that he has nothing to fear here, and to make him allow Draco to heal him.

"I have to check if you didn't harm yourself with the way you were trying to escape the bed. Still a reckless fool, I see."

Potter smiles weakly, but he seems calmer. Draco sits on the side of the bed, and makes Prince move a little so that he's lying next to Potter and not on his lap.

"Okay, do you think you're able to remove your shirt?"

Potter looks down on his chest, frowning a little when he sees the white tee-shirt he's wearing.

"I'm sorry, I had to throw your clothes away, they were too damaged. These are mine. Do you need help to remove it? It's okay if you do, your wounds are still sensitive."

But the Savior's frown deepens and he shakes his head, slowly removing his tee-shirt with a fierce expression on his face. That's a good sign, actually. There's still fire in him.

"Good. Let me see that."

As soon as Draco's hand touches his chest, Potter flinches badly, closing his eyes and biting his lips.

"I understand. I'm sorry Potter, but I have to do it. I promise I won't hurt you. It probably will be easier if you lie down on your side. This way I can check on your back and your chest really quickly, and then I leave you be. Okay?"

"Yes."

The voice is hoarse and the word is barely a whisper, but still, it's an improvement. Draco smiles in what he hopes is a friendly manner, and Potter slowly does as requested, lying on his left side. His hands are clenched in tight fists and his eyes are closed again, as if he cannot bear the sight of someone touching him.

"Potter? It would be better if you would look at me. That way I won't startle you when I touch you. Do you think you can do that?"

The green eyes slowly open, filled with pain and hurt and fear – that's the worse, the raw fear Draco can see in those eyes, because that's something he never saw there before. It's wrong, so wrong. Draco tries to focus and to be as quick as possible. The wounds are still closed. The healed skin is pink and still looks fragile, but it will heal alright. Potter breathes normally, too, so his lung is functionning again as well. As Draco touches Potter's back, the dark haired man begins to shake uncontrolabely, tears running down his face. Draco gently puts him on his back, and tucks him in under the covers and smiles when Prince lays his head on Potter's chest.

"There, all done. You need to rest and I will have to perform a few more spells, but you'll be alright. I'll make you something to eat now. I'll be back in a minute."

Draco leaves the room, giving Potter time to get a hold on himself. He knows it must be hard, to be injured and helpless like that after what he has been through, and to have no choice but to trust your childhood enemy on top of it. He takes his time to heat a bowl of tomato soup and make some tea. Then he makes his way to the bedroom again, carefully balancing the tray with one hand as he pushes the door. Potter has put the white tee-shirt back on, and is whispering quietly to Prince, scratching him behind the ears.

"You know he will want to stay with you forever if you keep that up?"

Potter chuckles a bit, and then looks at Draco with a soft smile.

"I don't mind. Besides, he saved my life, so he deserves some reward, doesn't he?"

"I suppose so." Draco puts the tray next to the injured man, and watches as he wraps his hands around the mug of tea. Potter's hands are strong and lightly tanned, and there are dozens of faint scars on them. Draco wonders why he hasn't healed them – they wouldn't have scar this way. And what the hell has he been doing for the past years? He's so lost in thoughts that he jumps a little when Potter's soft and deep voice echoes in the room again.

"Why did you save me?"

"What?"

"Why did you save me? You had no reason to do it. You hate me."

"I don't. And even if I did, I still wouldn't have let you to die."

"I don't understand."

Draco shrugs, feeling a bit annoyed now.

"Well, I didn't understand why you saved me from the Fiendfyre, but you did it anyway."

"Fair enough."

Potter studies him closely now.

"Well, thanks. I don't know how I can repay you for what you're doing, especially with the way I'm... well, nevermind, but thanks."

"I didn't do it to ask for something in return." Draco snaps, and he doesn't even know why he's so upset by the thought.

"I know".

Then Potter reports his attention on his tea and his soup, and Draco leaves. They will have to talk about what happened. They will have to discuss about Harry's magic. They will have to make decisions. But for now, it's enough that Potter knows he's safe, and that he's comfortable enough to let Draco heal him.

As Draco makes himself a sandwich, he wonders what the hell he has got himself into. He curses loudly and takes a beer in the fridge.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **Thanks for the kind reviews! Oh, and for those who didn't read my other fics yet, English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes and grammar errors I may leave! And now, enjoy! And don't forget to review!

The afternoon is gone quickly for Draco, as he's busy checking regularly on Potter – who apparently alternates between shorts naps and silly games with Prince – and sending owls to his clients to explain he has some kind of unexpected family matter and that he will be out of town for a few days, and giving them the name and address of a colleague. Being a private Healer certainly has some advantages. He brings Potter some more soup for dinner – he has to eat light food, since his body is already busy healing itself – and a copy of the Daily Prophet, which the dark haired man doesn't even look at.

"Would you like something else to read? I have some Muggle books."

"You do? Well, yes, please."

Draco leaves the Daily Prophet on the bedside table, and brings Potter a few novels. Then he settles himself in the chair beside the bed, and unfolds the newspaper. But he doesn't read anything. Instead he watches as Potter looks at the book, finally picking a silly romance novel. But he seems distracted, often staring a the wall, looking lost in thought, an expression of pain of his face. Every time it happens, Prince gives him a little shove on the arm with the top of his head, and every time Potter smiles softly and pats the dog on the head, as if telling him it's alright.

But Draco knows a lot about pain. About fear. About helplessness and hopelessness. About all the things you'd better forget, but you keep seeing over and over again. And he knows it's not alright. And it's probably been this way for a very long time. Draco doesn't find any joy in the thought of the bloody Savior suffering this much. Maybe because Potter is his patient at the moment. Maybe because of something else entirely. It's finally getting late, and Draco stands up, calling Prince.

"Come on, Prince, let's call it a night. Our patient needs to sleep."

"I don't mind him staying here, you know."

Draco stays frozen. There's no way he can tell Potter that he cannot sleep without Prince's comforting warmth. That he needs the golden retriever by his side when he wakes up from another nightmare chilled to the bone, gasping for air and entangled in the sheets. He tries to swallow, but somehow he isn't able to.

"Oh. Okay, then. Good night."

He slowly makes his way to the door, trying to convince himself that it is not a big deal, even if he's sure it actually is.

"Hey Prince, you're probably not allowed to sleep on the bed. Come on boy, get down! Go with Draco."

Draco turns around. He's surprised. First because Potter just called him Draco. And second because he can see in the green eyes that he knows the truth. He knows why Draco wants Prince to come with him. And yet he doesn't use it against Draco, when he could. He just looks at him with those gentle eyes of his, his face otherwise carefully blank. Draco can just nod, and then he leaves the bedroom, with Prince behind him.

HP-HP-HP-HP

"Okay, I have to cast a few more healing spells. You won't feel any pain or discomfort, but please stay still until I'm done."

Potter shifts on the bed, his eyes downcast.

"Potter, look at me. I know it's hard to trust someone after what they have done to you. I know it's especially hard because I'm, well, me, and because you feel exposed without your wand. But if I wanted to harm you, I would have done it by now, don't you think?"

Potter nods weakly, his eyes locked with Draco's, as though he's searching for some kind of answer. After breakfast this morning, Draco has checked on Potter's wounds – everything seems to heal properly. It's a bit slow, but with injuries such as his it was to be expected. Draco hopes to speed the process with some more specific spells. Then he will check Potter's magic once more, since it is actually what's worrying him the most. Draco closes his eyes, trying to focus on the healing spells only for now. When he's done, he opens his eyes again and meet Potter's green gaze. He nearly gasps out loud at what he sees there. Respect. Awe. Trust. And something else, something almost soft and warm.

"Thank you."

"I'm only doing my job." Draco snaps. Shit. He has to remain professional. He can do it. "Your glasses are missing. Do you want me to check your eyes and heal them, or maybe order new ones?"

"No. I got muggle surgery three years ago. Right after the war. Don't need glasses anymore."

Potter grins stupidly and Draco fights the need to slap him.

"Muggle surgery? Salazar, you're really an idiot aren't you?"

"I'll have you know it's very reliable. And I can see as well as you do now. There's no need to play the awful Muggle hater with me, you know. You obviously live in Muggle London, since everything is running with electricity, you have Muggle books, and I didn't see any house-elf here. You don't fool me."

Potter grin widens and Draco rolls his eyes.

"Of course I don't hate Muggles. I'm not my father."

"I know, Draco. Now I know."

"It's only that you could have had your eyes fixed in St Mungo's. Why did you go through Muggle surgery instead?"

Potter looks away. He looks sad and tired again.

"Because I'm living like a Muggle now. No magic. No wand."

"What?"

Draco is sure he has misunderstood. Potter is the most powerful wizard alive – well, he was, before he was injured – why in the name of Merlin would he live like a Muggle?

"Are you telling me that you disappeared only to live like a Muggle?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it, okay? Just... Just forget about it. Please."

"You know we have to talk about the day I found you. Look, I have things to tell you too. I'll speak first, okay? Good. You're healing quite alright. But I'm afraid you will have some scars. You were not healed quickly enough, and there's only so much magic can do. I promise I'll do my best to make them as faint as possible, but, yeah. They won't disappear."

"Oh. Well, I'm used to scars. I don't care." Harry shrugs and looks at his hands.

"By the way, where did you get all those scars on your hands?"

"I'm working in an animal rescue shelter. Cats can be pretty vicious."

Draco knows he's gaping. He just cannot help it. Potter works in an animal rescue shelter. The Savior of the Wizarding World changes kitty litters and feed dogs. Maybe he has gone crazy after he killed the Dark Lord?

"Don't look at me like I'm nuts. I don't expect you to understand."

Draco gathers what's left of his wits and tries to focus.

"Er, yes, well, anyway, there's something that worries me a little." More than a little, but Healers know when to keep information for themselves. "Your magic is really weak, Potter. And it doesn't seem to recover. I don't understand how it is even possible for someone like you to be that magically depleted. And it's beyond my capacity as a Healer, I'm sorry." And that's something Draco doesn't say often. Or something that he likes to say, for that matter.

"I don't care. As long as my body recovers, it's alright."

"I think you should go to St Mungo's, I know they have a specialist- wait, what did you say?"

"I don't care, Draco. It is alright if I call you Draco? I mean it would be strange to call you 'Healer Malfoy', and I don't want to call you Malfoy anymore. Reminds me of- well, I just don't want. So, do you mind?"

"What? No, I don't. Don't expect me to reciprocate, though. But don't try to confuse me. What do you mean you don't care?"

"I'm living like a Muggle, Draco. I don't need magic. I don't want it either."

Potter's face is as open and honest as it always was, and Draco knows he's telling the truth. As twisted and strange it is, he's not lying. He doesn't want his magic back. He doesn't even care if it's nearly gone. What the hell happened to him?

"Please, don't ask."

Fuck, and how is he doing that? Draco is a very good Occlumens – he learnt with Severus, after all – and he knows Potter never mastered Legilimency or Occlumency.

"I don't need to read your mind, Draco. It's written all over your face. I thought it was a distinct Gryffindorish quality to be so open."

Potter smirks at him with a smug look. Potter fucking smirks. Draco struggles to find his words, trying to get the upper hand on the whole situation again.

"Potter, I need to know what happened that day. And we need to decide what we will do about it."

Oh, shit. Potter looks like he's about to cry. Draco hates that part of the job. And he's not sure he really wants to know what Potter had experienced that day. In fact, he's pretty sure he doesn't. Fucking, fucking dog.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN:** This chapter contains mentions of violence and difficult themes. Now that you're warned, enjoy! And as usual, R&R please!

"Potter. Don't be so stubborn. You know you have to talk about it. The sooner you do it, the sooner we'll figure out what we're doing next, and then we'll be rid of each other."

Potter looks at him with a strangely sad smile, and seems to steel himself.

"I just had dinner with Hermione and Ron. I was walking down their street and looking for the underground station, and-"

"What? Why would you take the underground?"

"Not doing magic anymore, remember? Usually Ron Side-Along me to my flat, but, well, we had a row and I just kind of run off. I guess I wasn't really paying attention, or I would have heard them. Suddenly someone stunned and bound me. There were three of them. All wearing black robes and Death Eater masks. They wrapped me in black robes too and then we were gone."

"Okay. They couldn't have known you would fight with the Weasel and try to go back home the Muggle way. Either they were exceptionally lucky and were just at the right place at the right moment, or they had been following you for a while, biding their time till they found an opportunity. They could have put a Tracking Spell on you… Since you're not using magic, they couldn't use your magical signature. What happened next?"

"You know what happened."

Potter is looking away, both hands clasped tightly together.

"Potter… I know it's hard, but-"

"You know nothing! You have no idea what they did to me! What they said!" Potter shouts with a wild light in his green eyes. He's panting slightly and there are two red patches on his otherwise pale face.

Draco is a bit taken aback by the outburst, but he guesses it was long overdue. Potter has looked way too calm since he woke up. He has to take his anger, his pain, his resentment out. As a healer, Draco knows it. But as an individual, Draco just wants to punch Potter and then tell him exactly what he knows about torture and threats and fear.

"It's alright to be angry. I would be downright furious. But if you want them to pay for what they did, you have to tell me exactly what happened."

"But that's the point, Draco. I don't want them to pay. I want to forget and go back to my life."

Draco is very rarely speechless. In fact he's usually proud of his witty retorts and quick answers to everything. But that's something he has not seen coming. Definitely not.

"You can't tell me you don't want to seek revenge! I would-"

"Yes, Draco, you would. You would probably already be scheming and planning gruesome deaths. But that's you. I'm not you. If you could just let me stay one more day, I'm quite sure I'll be able to go home and you'll be rid of me just like you want."

"No. You won't go anywhere tomorrow, or this week for that matter. You're not healed, your body is exhausted and I still have to find what exactly is wrong with your magic."

"I don't care!"

"You don't care? How fucking stupid are you, Potter? It was you two days ago. Even if they don't come back for you – which I doubt, I'm sure they'll want to finish the job as soon as they'll realize you're alive – they could do the same to someone else. Someone less strong and powerful and damn lucky than you. Someone who would actually die, Potter. It's not only about you, you moron!"

Potter looks at Draco with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open like a dead goldfish. He obviously didn't think about that. Draco fights the urge to smirk. There's no way that the good and noble Savior would take the risk to endanger someone else. Not if he can do something about it.

Draco feels almost bad, because Potter looks torn and desperate. He makes a weird noise at the back of his throat – Draco really hopes it was not a choked sob, because a crying Harry Potter is the last thing he wants to see.

"They took it away."

"What?"

"My magic. They took it away."

Well that was unexpected. How the hell did they manage to do that?

"Can you tell me what you remember? Take your time."

Draco hopes his voice is soft and gentle enough. Salazar knows he's no good with all that emotional and relation stuff.

"They… Apparently they needed me to be as weak as possible. So they… cursed me. I lost the count after the tenth Cruciatus. They cut my chest. They punched me. They had removed my clothes and I had no mean to defend myself and I felt just… so helpless. So alone. I was so sure I was going to die there, and I didn't even understand why. They told me things they would do…" Potter is shuddering, his eyes locked with the wall but not seeing, and suddenly Draco wants him to just shut up, to do as he wants, heal him and let him go. But Potter keeps on talking, the words just flooding now. "Then they performed a spell on me, but I didn't understand the words. I felt like something was ripped away from me, like a part of me was dying, it was… awful. Terrifying. And then… one of them came behind me, and he whispered… things to me, and then I think he stabbed me with a knife or something, because it hurt like hell and it was hard to breath, and I just… passed out."

Draco can't take his eyes off of the man in front of me. He looks broken, and at the same time, he looks strong and Draco knows he will survive this, too. It will take time, there will be hard times and breakdowns, but he'll make it.

"Potter, I'm sorry, but I have to ask. I didn't find any evidence when I healed you, but… were you… you know… sexually assaulted?"

Potter inhales sharply, locking his eyes with Draco's, and he shakes his head.

"One of them... he kept telling me he would, but... the taller man, the one who seemed to be their leader, he told there was not time for that kind of things. That... that he would have enjoyed to, but... So, no, I wasn't."

Draco nearly sighs with relief. He reaches out before he thinks about it, slipping his right hand behind the raven-haired man's neck.

"We'll stop them. If you don't want to do it for yourself, do it because there will be other victims. If they are able to take away one's magic, they will not stop there. I can't believe I'm actually about to say that, but I think we should call the Weasel. Last I heard he was still an Auror. We need him. You need to tell him everything you told me, maybe more if you're able to confide in him."

"Okay." It's a whisper, only a whisper, but it's enough. "Now?"

"No, not now. You're not well enough. Besides, I need time to prepare myself. Don't look at me like that. I didn't think I would ever have to welcome the Weasel in my flat."

"Please, don't call him that. It was a long time ago. We all changed. Look at yourself? Nursing Harry Potter back to health in your own home."

Potter smiles weakly and Draco has to admit he's relieved to see it. Just because he doesn't deal so well with distraught people, of course. Not because he actually cares.

"Don't remind me. It's all Prince's fault, anyway."

Potter chuckles quietly, and Prince growls at Draco when the blonde leaves the room.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN:** I'd like to thank the Guest who always leaves incredibly kind and thoughtful reviews. You cheer me up! And here you are! R&R please !

"What would you say about a bath? I think you're well enough for that, and cleaning charms don't relax the same way a bath does. I'll remove the charms on your bladder and bowel, too. You're able to go to the loo with my help, and it's better to do this the natural way."

Potter blushes profusely, much to Draco's delight. It's kind of cute, how easy it is to embarrass the Boy-Who-Lived. Wait, not cute. Just… amusing.

"I think a bath would be nice."

"Good. I'll prepare the bathroom and be right back. How do like it?"

Potter's eyebrows nearly disappear in his hairline and he looks at Draco with an amused smile. Draco thinks about what he has just said and rolls his eyes.

"Your bath, Potter. How do you like your bath?"

"Boiling." Potter says with a childish grin, and Draco cannot help but chuckle.

There's an awkward moment when he helps Potter walk to the bathroom once the bath is ready. Potter sits on the edge of the tub, and Draco is not sure if he must leave now or if Potter may need his help.

"I think I'll manage, Draco. Thanks."

"Oh! Okay. Just shout if you need me. There's a bath towel here, and clean clothes as well."

Draco shuts the door behind him, trying not to think too much of the naked man in his tub and failing miserably. Maybe he could give Prince to Potter's rescue shelter when the raven-haired man will be healed.

HP-HP-HP-HP

"What would like for lunch? I'm not much of a cook, but I can manage some sandwiches, or go and buy some take-away food. There's a very good Indian restaurant in the neighborhood."

"I didn't think I would ever see Draco Malfoy buy Muggle take-away food."

"Shut it, Potter. So, what do you want?"

"Anything vegetarian would be fine."

"Vegetarian? I didn't know."

"It's quite recent. Since I've begun working for the rescue shelter. It seemed absurd to take care of these animals and still eat others. I mean, if I love animals. I don't eat them." Potter shrugs with a smile.

"Okay. Well, I don't love any animals or humans, and I would gladly eat both." Draco smirks and Potter bursts out of laugh, his head thrown back.

"That's not true, and you know it. Or you wouldn't have rescued Prince, or saved my ass."

"Stupid dog just wouldn't leave me alone. I didn't want to draw attention on me in Diagon Alley. And as for you… I had to take you with me. If someone saw me running away from Knockturn Alley and then discovered your dead body there, I would have found myself behind bars more quickly than you can say Azkaban."

"Yes, yes, whatever helps you sleep at night, Draco."

"They make a really good vegetables' curry with mango and cashew nuts. I'll be back in ten minutes."

Potter only smiles and nods. When Draco comes back, he's still in the couch, his legs under a plaid, and Prince lying next to him. He looks peaceful and content. As if he hadn't been kidnapped and tortured and left for dead three days ago. As if he wasn't locked in his former enemy's flat without his wand or his magic. Now that Draco thinks of it, Potter has always been strangely happy over the smallest things in Hogwarts. His friends. Treacle tart. Quidditch.

"Cold curry isn't as good, Draco."

Draco gets out of his daze and scowls. He doesn't like to be surprised. Especially not when he's staring stupidly and lost in la-la land. Shit.

They're eating in a comfortable silence for a while when Potter speaks again, his deep voice soft and resigned.

"Would you lend me some parchment and a quill? I guess I have to write to Hermione and Ron. I could ask them to take me to their flat, too. I've already been there for too long, I'm sorry about the inconvenience."

Draco swallows a mouthful of curry a bit too quickly and has to wash it down with a full glass of water. He should be ecstatic with the perspective of being rid to the Savior. Well, he's not, and besides, he's a good Healer, even if he's a lousy human being.

"You're not going anywhere until you're fully healed. And you'll be fully healed when I'll say so. I've got a reputation as a Healer, I won't let you ruin it, Potter. But yes, you should write to Weasley and Granger."

"It's Weasley and Weasley now, actually. They got married last year. And Hermione is pregnant with their first child."

"Oh, great. More Weasleys. Though Granger's genes can only improve the line. Make sure she comes with Weasley. She won't hex me first and then talk like Weasley probably would."

Potter opens and closes his mouth several times, then chuckles.

"I can't really say you're wrong. Ron can be pretty impulsive."

"That's a fucking understatement."

Potter gives him a smile that lights the whole room. It's so unguarded, so sincere that Draco feels as though he has been punched in the gut. How the hell can Potter smile like that to someone like him? He feels himself smile widely in return before he can stop it, and Potter smiles even more, something warm and soft shining in the green eyes. Is this what friendship really feels like?

HP-HP-HP-HP

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

Potter seems to think about what he wants to say. Draco did not read what the Golden Boy wrote to the other two-thirds of their Trio – not that he didn't want to, but the apparent trust Potter has put in him somehow stopped him – but he saw the way Potter's hand was shaking and the way his mouth was tightly closed. Potter has been silent since the owl is gone, and Draco wonders what had caused the row with Weasley and Granger the night Potter was taken.

"I heard your parents left the country after Lucius was released. How are they?"

"They're alright. They moved to France. My mother didn't really want to, but… It was hard enough for here while Lucius was in Azkaban. It would have been hell with him free and constantly speaking nonsense about the war and V-Voldemort."

There. He has said it. Voldemort. He shivers in spite of himself and he's sure his Dark Mark is itching, but it's worth it. Potter looks at him with an astonished look, but there's something else on his face, too. Something Draco craves so much. Respect.

"Oh. I see. Is she happy?"

"They live with some relatives. She's not alone with Lucius, at least."

"You don't seem to like your father very much."

"What did you expect? Fucking madman forced me to do things no one should do or even see, least of all a child. He made me take the Dark Mark when I was only sixteen, and then we had to live with the Dark- with Voldemort in our own house. We were threatened, and I was given a fucking suicide mission. If Severus hadn't protected me as much as he could, I wouldn't have survived the war. Lucius is a bastard, he's a cruel and cold man who terrified me as a child and still frightens my mother. So no, I don't like him very much. I fucking hate him."

Draco must have stood up at some point, even if doesn't remember it, and he's looming over Potter. And fuck, he has drawn his wand. What's wrong with him? He takes a step back, tears slowly filling his eyes.

"And as you can see, I'm still his son. And I fucking hate myself, too."

He gets out as fast as he can, the cold air of the street clearing his mind after a few minutes spent walking briskly on the wet pavement. He has to get back and to apologize. If only he knew how.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **Enjoy and please, please review ^^ !

Just when Draco begins to figure out what the hell he could say to Potter, he feels the worrying tingle at the back of his mind. Someone is breaching his flat's wards right now. Shit. He's running as fast as he can, his wand hidden in his sleeve, trying not to think too much of Potter alone up there, without any mean to defend himself, except for Prince, who cannot be too much of a threat in front of a capable wizard. His lungs burn as he reaches the front door of the building, hurrying inside and glancing around to make sure it's safe to Apparate straight up to his flat. It wouldn't do to scare Muggles now and to have some Ministry Aurors and Obliviators coming here. He manages to Apparate just in front of his couch, shielding Potter quite efficiently from his attackers, and feels a short burst of pride for it.

And then he sees them.

Weasley's face is a nice shade of crimson, the color clashing horribly with his hair. And Granger grins smugly, her hands over a very round belly.

"Blood wards?"

"Of course. How long?"

"To spot them or to breach them?"

"Both."

"Two minutes to figure it out. About five to breach them. Pretty strong, they are. I didn't even know it was possible to have blood wards this powerful on a random Muggle flat. Impressive."

Harry chuckles behind Draco, and Weasley's face is now almost purple.

"You should sit down, Granger. Would like something to drink, now that you're in my living-room anyway?"

"We're not here to have a drink, Malfoy." Weasley spats his name like it's a kind of disease, and Draco wants to roll his eyes – really, it's not even funny, how predictable this one is. "Harry, we're going."

"Ronald, calm down. We are all going to sit and Harry will tell us what exactly happened to him. Your letter was quite worrying, you know. Draco, we apologize for getting in your flat this way, it was rather rude from us, but we didn't know what we would find here, and we were afraid it was some trick."

"Understandable. I'll make some tea while Potter explains."

Weasley looks with wide eyes at his wife, but he sits next to Potter's feet on the couch. The bushy-haired woman carefully settles in the leather chair and watches both Draco and Potter with a calculating gaze. He busies himself with making tea in his small kitchen, listening as Potter tells his story in a dead voice. Draco is surprised to hear how Potter avoids talking about most of the torture he experienced, slipping quickly to the part where Prince and Draco found him. Just as Draco enters the living-room again with the tray, Weasley stands up and begins to shout.

"You don't know if he's not with them! It could be a nasty trick, Harry!"

"I'm sure it isn't, Ron. And I trust him." Potter softly answers.

Draco nearly drops the tray, and when he looks up, Granger is watching him again. He clears his throat awkwardly and puts the tray on the coffee table, gesturing for Weasley to help himself with a smirk.

"Grang- erm, Hermione. Milk? Sugar?"

He hands her her cup and quickly prepares Potter's tea, deeply aware of Weasley's venomous glare and Hermione's speculative gaze on him. One sugar, no milk. Potter takes it with a weak smile and it takes all of Draco's willpower not to squeeze the other man's hand in reassurance. They all sip on their cups for a while – well, except for Weasley who's apparently set on not accepting anything from Draco – and then Hermione speaks softly.

"Harry, what do you want us to do?"

"Well, I- I would like to simply forget about it, but... I mean, Draco thinks those wizards could harm someone else. So, I guess I have to go to the Ministry and get them to investigate."

"Oh, Draco thinks that, does he now?"

"Yes Ronald, and I think he's right as well. Sit down. Did you recognize any of them, Harry?"

Draco nearly laughs out lout at Weasley furious face. Hermione doesn't pay him any attention, but she's studying Potter's face intently.

"No... But... There was something familiar about their leader. I can't say exactly why, but... I'm sure I know him from somewhere."

"If you had had your wand, none of this would have happened! This is exactly what I was telling you that night!"

Potter's face is blank, but his eyes shine with a cold fury that is a bit frightening. Hermione is pale and her hands are clenched too tightly around her mug, and she seems to wait for Harry to blow up or something.

"That's bullshit, Weasley. Potter was surprised. He was stunned and bound before he could even realize what was happening. I think there was nothing he could have done, with or without a wand. And the spell they used on him is worrying. If they are able to remove magic from someone as powerful as him, they won't hesitate to do it again."

"Do you think they can use the magic they took?"

"Good question, Hermione. I've been wondering about that too. I'm not sure if it's possible to use someone else's magic."

"Let's hope it's not."

"Well, the ministry will clear that. We don't need him. Come, Harry."

"Ronald! Don't you understand? Don't you realize that Harry would probably have died without Draco? I'm grateful he was there, and I'm grateful he's such a good healer and a good wizard and was able to heal and protect Harry while we could not! Shit, Ron! Grow up!"

There are tears on her cheeks, and she's shaking a little. Potter is biting his lower lip, looking at her with a pained look. She seems to recover, taking a deep intake of breath.

"What do you want, Harry? Do you want to stay here with Draco while you're healing? Or do you prefer to come home with us? We will help you with the Ministry and the investigation anyway. Well, I will, at least. I won't let you down, you know that. Just tell me what you want. I think it's high time for us to respect your choices."

Potter smiles softly at her, and Draco can see how much he loves her, how much her opinion matters to him. The blonde suddenly wants to punch Weasley in the face for being such a prat to someone like Potter. Someone who's able to love like that.

"I think I'll stay a bit longer here, if it's alright with Draco. Nobody knows I'm here, and I don't want you to take any risks for me, especially with the baby coming soon. It's safer this way. And besides, he's my Healer and I think I need a few more days to recover completely."

Draco cannot resist. He smirks at Weasley. Potter wants to stay here. With him. Because he trusts him. Because he feels safe with him.

"It's alright with me. You can stay as long as you want, Potter."

"I think you should call me Harry, now." Potter's smile is soft and he looks relieved. Draco realizes with a pang that he cannot refuse. He's not able to, not with the green eyes on him like that, full of hope and trust. Besides, it will certainly piss Weasley off, with the way he's currently looking from Hermione to Harry with big blue eyes, apparently thinking they're all crazy.

"Okay, Harry."

Checkmate, Weasley.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **And another chapter! Hopefully you'll like it! Either way, please tell me what you think about it! You'll make a happy author out of me ^^

"So, do you prefer robes or a Muggle suit? Or maybe something more casual, you're the Savior I reckon you could just walk in wearing a pink gown and they'll worship you all the same..."

Harry snorts, but Draco can tell that something is off. Harry has an appointment with Kingsley Shacklebot and the Head Auror today, and Weasley should be there shortly to Side-Along Harry to the Ministry.

"I think you should pick the black suit. With a white shirt it'll be perfect. My best robes are pearl grey, and of course it looks amazing on me, but I don't think the color would suit you. Harry?"

"What? I'll just take the white shirt, thanks. Kingsley knows me, and I'm not used to wear a suit, I'll be uncomfortable."

"It's not about being comfortable. It's about style and it's about impressing people, Harry. Are you really planning to go wearing those jeans and a white shirt?"

"Yes, Draco, I will."

Harry shifts on the bed, removing his tee-shirt and taking the white shirt from Draco's hand. Draco turns around to leave the bedroom. He has to lift the wards so that Weasley can Apparate straight in the flat. Honestly, the things he's doing for Harry.

"Try to do something with your hair, at least. It looks like something lives in it."

"Well, maybe it's the case, you know. Maybe that was my secret weapon against Voldemort."

Draco chuckles as he leaves the room, leaving a grinning Harry to fight with the small buttons of the silk shirt.

When Draco comes back, his breath catches in his throat for the tiniest moment. Harry hat put on the faded jeans that Weasley brought two days ago with some other belongings, and the silk shirt looks fabulous on him, its whiteness making his skin look almost tanned. It's a bit too tight, since Harry has a more muscular chest and broader shoulders than Draco despite his smaller size, and it's perfect. Fuck. He should have made him wear the robes. Everyone in the Ministry will drool on the Savior now. They probably would have even with the grey robes anyway, but still. Draco clears his throat and helps Harry up, sliding an arm around his waist to steady him, and they slowly make their way to the living room.

Harry is doing well, he has even taken a few steps alone this morning. He's still recovering though, and Draco knows better than to be too confident. That's why he's keeping the dark haired man so close to him right now, of course. He lets go of Harry a bit suddenly to avoid thinking about this too much, and the other man stumbles before sitting on the couch with a relieved sigh.

"Fuck. I hope I'll get better soon. I can't stand being so weak."

"You have to be patient. It's only been five days."

"I know, but patience is not my strong suit."

"It's not exactly a surprise, you know. You always seemed to be bouncing with that gryffindorish reckless energy in Hogwarts. Harry..." Draco hesitates. But Harry is his patient, right? And surely it's perfectly normal to ask if something is bothering your patient. "Is something wrong? You're looking out of sorts this morning."

"I'm just... I don't want to go back there. I hated what they were making me do after the war. Showing me around like some kind of poster boy. Telling me what I should say, what I should do. Even what I should wear." Harry looks up and Draco feels a bit ashamed for his previous behavior. "I just wanted to be normal. I was so foolish and naïve, I thought I could just have a quiet and peaceful life after the war. I mean, I had done my duty, and I'm glad I did it, really, but after that... I needed time for myself. I needed peace and normalcy."

"And you couldn't have that."

"Not really, no. It was one of the reasons I just left one day."

Draco knows Harry won't say what his other reasons were. And he has every right to keep them to himself, no matter how badly Draco wants to know what could make someone like Harry live like a Muggle, not even using his powerful magic anymore.

"That doesn't explain why you're so nervous about today. I mean, they can't make you come back or do anything you don't want to do. You'll go there only to fill a report, explain what happened and get them to investigate. That's all. And as much as I despise Weasley, I don't think he'll let anyone harm you in any way."

"You don't understand... Ron wants me to come back. Kingsley wants me to come back. Everyone just wants me to be what I'm supposed to be. And they will tell me how important it is, and how I could make a difference, because, you know, I'm the fucking Boy Who Lived Twice."

"And being a noble Gryffindor, you're afraid that you'll accept, because they'll play on your guilt."

Harry doesn't answer. He looks away and nods quietly.

"Well, don't. You don't owe them anything. They fucking owe you. So just go there and make sure they'll do what they need to do to catch the wizard who hurt you, and come back. Simple as that."

"Come with me."

"What? No."

"Please. I don't think anything can impress you or make you do what you don't want to. You'll be able to keep a cold head where I will only get upset until I'll shout at them or agree to anything."

No. There's no way he can go to the Ministry. They'll probably find a way to blame him for what happened to Harry and to keep him.

"You don't need me, Potter. I already wrote everything I remember from that day and made a copy from my reports concerning your injuries and Weasley gave it to Shacklebot. There's nothing more I can do. Besides it's probably better if we're not seen together. I'm not exactly well liked, you know."

"I don't care, I just-" Harry closes his eyes, and he's looking so tired, so weary. So hopeless. "Forget about it. I don't know why I asked."

He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes, and just as Draco opens his mouth again, there's a loud pop and Weasley is there, his hair as red as ever and his Auror robes making him appear even taller than he is.

"Ready, Harry?"

"No, but it doesn't change anything, does it?"

"It'll be alright, mate. Can you stand up?"

Draco rushes forward, but Harry has already taken Weasley's arm. The blonde flushes in spite of himself, feeling foolish.

"Malfoy" Weasley says with a nod.

Draco nods a bit stiffly in return, and looks at Harry. He's too pale and Draco is sure he can see his hands shaking slightly.

"I'll see you later, then. Bye, Draco."

And then they're gone, and Draco wishes he could forget the look in Harry's eyes. Prince whines softly besides him, and he pats the golden retriever absently on the head.

"Don't worry, Prince. He'll be alright. He's Harry Potter, after all."

HP-HP-HP-HP

His panic is nearly shocking him. The overwhelming power of the memories threatens to make him flee. The trial, his wrists and ankles bound together by chains so tightly that he could barely walk on his own, people screaming and shouting insults and spitting on him and his father, his mother crying on the bench in front of them and the shame, and all the guilt. And Potter's testimony, his unexpected plea for Draco's freeing. Fuck, he cannot do that. Nobody has spotted him yet, and he's walking like an Inferius, not seeing anything, just focused on the lift. Only ten steps left. Five. Two. He pushes the buttons with unnecessary strength, just wishing for the damn thing to hurry the fuck up. Finally, finally, the doors open and he steps inside, trying to get his breathing and heartbeat under control.

"Draco Malfoy?"

Oh, no, shit. He turns his head slowly, and recognizes the man at once. Arthur Weasley. The man looks at him with a surprisingly gentle smile.

"How are you?"

"Erm, I'm well enough, thank you. And yourself?"

"We're better." The blue eyes are clouded for a short moment, and Draco's cheeks flame with shame – the man has lost a son during the final battle, and another one was wounded by Greyback in Hogwarts the night Dumbledore died. And that was Draco's doing.

"Are you here to assist Harry? Ron told me about his appointment today."

"Yes, I am. I'm his Healer."

"Good." The gentle smile is back again, and it's almost too much to bear, this obvious kindness. "Harry needs friends and he needs support. I don't think Ron fully understands what the war did to Harry... How much it has taken from him. But... perhaps you do. I think you're there, Draco. Good luck."

The doors open and Draco steps out, turning around just in time to see Arthur Weasley smiling and waving at him before the doors close again.

Maybe it won't be so bad, after all. Maybe he can help Harry go through this and thus pay his debt to the man.

Draco takes a deep breath and knocks resolutely on the wooden door that reads "K. Shacklebot – Minister of Magic".


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN:** Thanks to all my followers/favoriters and reviewers. Speaking of which, I'd really like to read more reviews... Please? *makes puppy eyes*

Draco almost laughs when he enters the Minister's office. Almost. Weasley scowls at him and releases an exasperated sigh. Harry is looking both surprised and relieved, something that shouldn't be so warming but in fact is. And Kingsley Shacklebot mererly raises one eyebrow, as if he waits for an explanation.

"Good Morning, Sir. Weasley," Draco adds with a smirk. Harry's eyes don't leave him, and he smiles softly.

"Mr Malfoy. Harry was just about to explain what exactly happened that night. Please have a seat. I read your report, but I'd better hear the story directly from you."

"Thank you, Sir."

Draco takes the free chair next to Harry, fighting the disturbing need to take the dark haired man's hand in his own. Harry is stiff as a board, his hands clasped tightly together on his lap, and he's looking at the ground.

"Harry?"

Shacklebot is looking kindly at Harry, an encouraging smile on his lips. As impressive as the tall dark man is, Draco knows he's a fair and kind man. He remembers how the Minister had stood on Harry's side during his awful trial, willing to give Draco a second chance and arguing that the Savior was right, that Draco was indeed very young and had done what he had done only to save his parent's and his own life. Harry speaks in a dull and dead voice, his eyes downcast. He skips the details of his torture again, and Draco puts his hand on the strong shoulder.

"Harry... You have to tell everything you told me. I know it's hard, I know you want to forget, but it's necessary."

Weasley shifts in his chair, and Draco knows he's wondering what Harry did not tell him and Hermione.

"I can't."

"Okay. Do you want me to tell the Minister? Or do you want me and Weasley to go and have a cup of tea while you explain yourself what happened?"

"Could you..." Harry looks at him with pleading eyes, and Draco knows he can't deny him anything right now. And not only because Harry is his patient and is obviously distressed. Whatever it is Harry wants him to do, he'll do it. Fuck. It's not good. "Could you maybe explain while Ron and I go for a short walk? I... I don't think I can do it again. Please."

"If you feel more comfortable this way, I'll do it. Go now. Weasley, buy him a cup of tea, please. With lots of sugar. He needs one."

Astonishingly, Weasley only nods and helps Harry to his feet, guiding him out of the office. Draco explains everything Harry told him, as well as the nature of his injuries and the near-disappearance of his magic. Kingsley nods from time to time, looking at Draco intently.

"I'm not sure if it was the first time they used this curse, but it certainly won't be the last." Draco concludes with a sigh.

"I agree. It's really worrying, to be honest. As far as I know, Harry was the first. But I'll have the Auror Departement checking every suspect death over the last months, just in case." The Minister leans back in his chair, the dark eyes searching Draco's face. "I'm glad you found him and were able to heal him. I knew you were a Healer, but you never worked for St Mungo's, did you?"

"Of course not. Do you think they would hire me? Nobody would like to have Draco Malfoy as their Healer in St Mungo's. I'm a private Healer."

"So there are people willing to have you as their Healer."

"Well, yes. When I graduated, I was sure St Mungo's wouldn't like to have me as their employee. But then I thought that some people don't want to go in St Mungo's either, for various reasons. So I became a private Healer. I heal those who can't go to St Mungo's, where I can't work myself." Draco shrugs. "I feel useful. I'm helping those people the best I can."

"What sort of people?"

"Purebloods who think they wouldn't be healed properly in St Mungo's. But mainly werewolves, in fact. I'm quite known because I keep my mouth shut, I have experience with children and adults alike, and I brew my own Wolfsbane. They know it's safe to deal with me."

"Why werewolves, Mr Malfoy?"

Draco takes a deep breath. Salazar knows he doesn't want to explain, but he feels he should, for some reason.

"Because of Greyback. I saw what he did first hand during the war, and I... I let him in Hogwarts the night Dumbledore died. I saw Bill Weasley, that night. And it was my fault. Greyback was a monster. But Pro-Professor Lupin was a good man. Severus used to brew the Wolfsbane for him. He taught me how to brew it. That's what gave me the idea, I thought I could help werewolves like Professor Lupin, too. Because if they receive help and all, maybe they're more likely to become someone like him rather than someone like Greyback."

Suddenly Draco is aware of a presence behind him, and he knows Harry and Weasley have come back without turning around. Shit. How long have they been there? How much did they hear? He doesn't dare looking at them, so he keeps his eyes on Kingsley Shacklebot, whose eyes seems to twinkle – shit, they really don't need another Dumbledore. The two other men sit again, and the Minister clears his throat.

"Okay, Harry. Mr Malfoy – or Healer Malfoy, I guess – told me everything I need to know. I will have to tell the Aurors Weasley and Finnigan about it, but they will be in charge and won't tell anyone else. We'll make sure to catch them as soon as possible, Harry, and I'll talk with the Unspeakables. I'm sure they'll be able to find a counter-curse for you and-"

"That won't be necessary Kingsley, unless those men did the same to other people. I don't care about my magic. I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Harry, you can't possibly mean that. You're a very powerful wizard."

"I was a very powerful wizard. I'm not anymore, and as far as I'm concerned, I'll be happy to stay like that forever. And I already told you that I won't work here ever again, Kingsley."

"Harry, I have to insist. We need you badly here, we need your influence and-"

"I believe that Harry was very clear. He doesn't want to come back and work for the Ministry again. I would like to give him his magic back, that's true, but not against his will. And certainly not to make him do something he doesn't want to do, Sir."

While talking, Draco has put his hand on Harry's forearm, hoping to soothe and calm him a little. The Minister is raising an eyebrow again – he should work on this particular expression, it doesn't really suit him – and Weasley is flushed, looking ready to explode. Three. Two. One-

"What the hell have you done to Harry, Malfoy?"

Ignition.

"I don't trust you one bit, you disgusting little ferret."

"Really mature, Weasley. And I don't care what you think. I'm Harry's Healer. I'm here to ensure no one will force him to do anything, especially when he's still recovering both physically and emotionally."

"That's bullshit! Harry, mate! He must have something to do with your attack! Don't you think it was a bit weird that he was the one to find you?"

"He didn't, in fact. His dog found me."

"And since when does Malfoy even have a dog? I'm sure it's all an act, Harry! He probably knew you were working at this animal rescue thing and bought the dog because of it! He's working with them!"

"Ron, it makes no sense. If he was working with them, why the hell would he save me? Or tell me to come here and make the Ministry investigate? Besides, Prince is his dog and has been for at least a few months. I know enough about animals to recognize a true relationship between a dog and its master. And I trust Draco."

"I agree with Harry, Auror Weasley. And as much as I would like for Harry to come back in our world and to work with us, I can understand that he doesn't want to. Mr Malfoy is only protecting his patient. I trust him as well. I think he has done very well since his trial, he's actually a very good example, if you ask me, and I'm glad to see I wasn't wrong about him."

Draco feels his cheeks heat a little, and his blush only deepens when Harry brushes his hand lightly against Draco's knee.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Well I don't trust you, Malfoy! And I swear if you have something to do with this, I'll make you regret it for the rest of your life!"

"Ronald Weasley, this is quite enough. Sit down, please, or I'll have to make Auror Finnigan work with someone else on this case. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir" Weasley mumbles, still sending deathly glares Draco's way.

It's rather satisfying to be defended by the Minister of Magic and the Savior, Draco thinks with a smirk. Even more when Weasley looks almost constipated with his obvious intern fight to keep calm.

Draco hopes to be able to put that expression on the red head as often as possible. It really makes his day.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN:** Here's the new chapter! Warning for this one: some violence and mention of a past abusive relationship. Enjoy, and review please!

"I think you should lie down for a while, Harry."

Draco tucks the dark haired man in; a bit worried by the way he's shivering and the paleness of his face.

"I need to tell me how high is your pain and discomfort level on a scale from zero to ten."

"Five, I'd say."

"Shit."

"What? It's not so bad."

"Please Harry, give me a little credit. I'm a Healer and I'm used to patient's answers. If a typical Ravenclaw says five, it means five. If a Huffelpuff says five, it means three at most. If a Slytherin answers five, it can mean two or seven, depending on the situation and how the patient can benefit from their answer. But if a Gryffindor says five, it usually means seven. And in your case, it means eight or nine, since you're an idiotic and brave hero. Where does it hurt the most?"

"My back." Harry whispers, a deep blush covering his face and neck. Draco casts a few spells to relieve his pain and help his muscles to recover.

"It was probably a bit too much too soon."

Harry sighs with relief and lets his head fall on the pillow. He's still too pale, but he's looking more relaxed and Draco shakes his head as he thinks about the amount of pain the Savior was probably in before Draco did something about it.

"Would you have told me, if I didn't ask first?"

"I'm not sure."

"You're used to it, aren't you?"

"Used to what?"

"To be in pain and to bear it alone."

Harry bits his lower lip and looks away.

"Well, there will be none of this nonsense while you're here. I'm your Healer, I have to know if you're in pain, if you don't feel comfortable or if you need something."

"Yes, you're my Healer, of course. I'll tell you."

Harry looks disappointed, his eyes stubbornly fixed on the covers.

"Oh please, spare me the kicked puppy act. What do you want me to say? Yes, I'm your Healer and I need to know those things. And yes, you're something like a friend, I guess."

"You guess?"

Draco shifts on the bed, feeling suddenly ill at ease. Harry's too close, and Salazar knows Draco doesn't want to have this conversation, and fuck, what is he supposed to say anyway?

"Well… It's not like I have much experience with that type of things, and I'm aware that you don't need another friend, especially one like me, but-"

Shit, he's rambling, isn't he? Malfoys don't ramble. Harry looks at him with an amused smile and Draco wants to disappear. What the fuck is wrong with him? And are his hands sweating? Since when are his hands even able to sweat?

"I'd like to have you as my friend."

"Oh, good. Yes. Okay. Erm, I'm going to see if there's something we could eat for lunch. Be right back."

Harry's still smiling, but it's not a mocking grin, it's a soft and warm smile, and his eyes shine like Draco has somehow given him something precious instead of just admitting he considers the other man as his friend. There's a burning feeling in his chest that Draco absolutely doesn't want to analyze, at least for now, so he leaves and heads for the kitchen.

There's noise in the living room. Prince is growling. What did that useless dog do now?

But Prince didn't do anything. In fact he's growling threateningly at Theodore Nott, who's standing near the couch as he so often did until last month.

"Theo. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too, Draco. I just wanted to see my boyfriend."

"I'm not your boyfriend anymore. I thought I made that point clear during our last discussion. Get out now, I don't want to see you or listen to whatever it is you've thought of this time. Just leave, Theo."

"Don't tell me what I have to do, Draco. Incarcero!"

Prince is suddenly bound on the ground, fighting uselessly against the ropes. Draco realizes he has left his wand on the bedside table after the disturbing talk with Harry. Shit. Theo smirks and there's a dangerous gleam in his eyes. The Stupefy hits Draco square in the chest, and Theo catches him before he can fall to the ground, wrapping his hand tightly around the blonde's throat and slamming him against the wall. Draco winces as the back of his head hits the hard wall. Theo's face is far too close, and then he whispers in Draco's ear.

"You're mine, Draco. You have no right to leave me. I won't let you. You're just confused, love."

"Don't call me that. You don't know what love is." Draco manages to mutter, despite the hand that's slowly chocking him. Fuck, he hopes Harry will stay still long enough. Theo won't hesitate to hurt him – or even to kill him. His lungs burn badly, he can't breathe, and he can't see anything anymore. That's not how he wanted to die. Not that he often thinks of his own death, but still.

"Nott, release him this instant."

Harry's voice is confident and strong, and Draco wonders how the hell he has even managed to get up in his state. Theo is surprised and he turns around abruptly, letting go of Draco's throat in the process. The blonde falls to his knees coughing and inhaling with a weird rasping sound. He's able to see again and he has to admit Harry makes an impressive sight.

The Savior of the Wizarding World is pointing Draco's wand to Theo, apparently casually leaning in the door frame – but Draco knows it's because Harry can barely stand on his own. The green eyes don't leave Theo and there's a confident smirk on his handsome face. Yes, there's no use denying it, Harry is a very handsome man, and right now, with the confidence and the power practically radiating off of him, he's breathtakingly beautiful.

Draco only hopes it will be enough, because Harry isn't even able to cast a Lumos.

"Potter?" Theo sounds incredulous, and Draco knows he's furiously thinking. Theo is smart and cunning, and he's probably trying to decide what the best course of action could be for him now. "What are you doing here?"

"It's none of your fucking business, Nott. Just get out of here before I decide to hex you for hurting Draco."

"Draco? My, my. You shouldn't lose your time with that worthless piece of shit. Believe me, I've been there before."

Draco can't see Theo's face, but he can feel the smirk and the look of superiority. He's suddenly not able to look at Harry anymore and he tries to focus on Prince, who's desperatly still struggling against the ropes, whining pitifully.

"Nott, get out now."

Harry's voice is deeper, and somehow quieter, and it's a bit frightening. Theo's grip on his wand tightens visibly. Harry defeated the Dark Lord, after all. Draco guesses he would be nervous too.

Theo disappears with a loud pop and Harry slides soundlessly to the ground. Prince's freed and comes to nuzzle Draco's face, urging him to get up. Draco crawls on his knees and hands until he's near Harry, whose eyes are closed.

"Harry? Can you hear me? Harry?"

"Yes… Fuck. Don't ask me how I feel right now. Not sure I could lie."

Draco chuckles weakly and stands up slowly, helping Harry to his feet and practically dragging him to the bed. They collapse in a very un-Malfoyish way, and Draco actually needs a few seconds to catch his breath again. When he opens his eyes, Harry is watching him carefully, a frown on his face.

"He hurt you."

"What?"

Harry raises his hand and lets his fingertips caress Draco's throat, and Merlin helps him, but the blonde shivers slightly. Harry seems to be concentrating, and before Draco can't say anything, he feels the familiar tingling of a Healing Charm on his skin.

"Harry, no!"

But it's too late. Harry's eyes close and his head rolls to the side as he passes out.

"You fucking stubborn idiot! No! I'm going to kill you if you wake up you stupid Gryffindor!"

Harry doesn't react and Draco hopes it's not too late. Not just because he's never lost a patient before. Not anymore. He takes his wand with a shaking hand and tries to focus, blinking away tears of worry and sorrow. Malfoys don't cry.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN:** This chapter contains mentions of a past abusive relationship, and child abuse. It will probably be the case for the next two chapters as well. This one was a bit hard to write... I hope you'll enjoy! R&R please!

Unexpectedly, Harry's attempt at magic seems to do his magic good. It's still weak, but Draco feels it's still better than it was before. It might have something to do with the Savior's incredible luck, because it should rather have killed him. It's been three hours, and Harry has not woken up yet. Draco is a bit worried by his comatose state, and moreover, he's worried by the fact that Theo now knows where Harry is. What if he decides to use the information? What if he decides he wants revenge over both of them? What if he actually has something to do with Harry's attack? Harry said his attackers had been dressed like Death Eaters, and if Theo never was branded with the Dark Mark like Draco had been, his family always supported the Dark Lord. And Theo never changed his ideas on Purebloods – it was one of the numerous reasons Draco couldn't stay with him any longer.

Maybe he should call Weasley&Weasley. Ask for help. He would never do such a thing for himself, but there's Harry, too. He has to keep Harry safe, and he's not able to do so on his own, as much as it pains him to admit it. They need a safe house with strong wards. They need time to allow Harry to recover and the Ministry to catch the wizards who did this to him.

Harry's eyes flutter open and he releases a moan of pain. Draco hides his relief as best as he's able to and sneers at the dark haired.

"That's what you get for always playing the stupid selfless hero, you moron. I bet you have the worse headache of your life right now."

"Actually, no... It was worse when I had Voldemort in my head."

Shit. Draco feels his cheeks flame with shame. He hadn't thought of that.

"What the hell were you thinking? Doing wandless and wordless magic, in your state? Are you suicidal, Potter?"

Despite his snappish words, Draco is aware that his voice is much softer. Perhaps because Harry is blinking at him like an owl, his eyes slightly dazed and his hair even messier than usual, and damn him, but isn't he fucking cute like that?

"I don't know... I was not really aware of what I was doing, I think... I just... I could see the marks of his fingers on your skin, and it made me angry that you were hurt, and I wanted to make them disappear. Why the hell did you ever love that bastard?"

Draco nearly chokes on his own spit. Discussing his love life with Harry is not something he'd planned to do. But at the same time... Harry has been hurt because of Draco's mistake, and he deserves to know. Draco sighs and closes his eyes, unable to look at the strong man lying before him if he has to tell how very weak and foolish himself has been.

"I didn't love him. Not really. At the time, I thought I was in love, and I thought Theo loved me, but it was a lie. I should have known..." He chuckles darkly, because really, it sounds stupid to his own ears. "I don't think Theo is even able to love. At first he was so nice and caring and I was stupid enough to believe his lies. I think he just liked the idea to possess me, to have Draco Malfoy do anything he would ask. By the time he became really violent, I was too deep in the relationship to even see how fucked-up it was. Ironically, it was Prince who saved me. One day, Theo kicked him, just like that. And suddenly, I saw what sort of man he really was, I saw how he treated me and how I had let myself be used once again. I told him it was over this very day. He tried several times to get me back, using different means and lies. Today was his last attempt, I think. I'm sorry you got hurt because of my foolish behavior." Shit, that was hard. It's hard because he knows only too well what he had hoped to find with Theo. He's so tired to be alone. So tired to be only used and abused. He has to get a grip, because there's no way he'll cry over this in front of Harry.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this. And it was not your fault, Draco. None of this is your fault. It's Nott's."

"Yes, well, either way, we have a problem. Theo will be really pissed, and I don't think he will keep the fact that you were here to himself. There's a chance that he knows the wizards who kidnapped you, maybe he's even part of their little gang. We have to find another place until Shaklebot and Weasley manage to stop them. It's not safe anymore."

Harry nods and seems to think about it for a minute.

"I know where we can go. You'll even be able to strengthen the existing wards with blood wards."

"Are you sure it's safe enough?"

"Yes, it is. Few people know it even exists. And I changed the wards after the war when I- well, I'm the only one who can get in now."

HP-HP-HP-HP

"Harry, it's awful. I can't believe it's the Black house. I understand why half of the family was crazy."

"I know. Maybe we can manage to change some things and make it look less depressing? Anyway it's safe and that's what we need now."

"Yes, you're right. Where are the bedrooms? You need to lie down and rest. I'll see what I can do with the kitchen and the living room, and I'll try to build blood wards if the Black House recognizes me."

"There are four bedrooms on the first floor. The first one on the right was Sirius', and I used to sleep in it when I came here. You can choose one of the others for yourself and change anything you want."

Draco nods and helps Harry up the stairs. The first bedroom has pale green and cream painted walls, and looks decent enough. Harry collapses on the bed with a sigh, and Prince jumps beside him. Harry pats his head in an absent way, looking around him with wide eyes.

"I didn't think I'd ever come back. But it's okay, I guess."

"You came here first, when you left, didn't you?"

"Yes. At first, I just wanted to have a break, you know. I felt I had no control of my own life, as always. I worked for the Ministry but I hated it. I was engaged to Ginny but we weren't in love anymore. I lived with Ron and Hermione but I felt like an intruder. Ginny broke up with me before she went away with her Quidditch team, and I took it as a sign. I lived here for six months, but it wasn't enough. So I decided to live in the Muggle world, to have a life of my own instead of being trapped here."

Draco looks closely at Harry. He seems tired, but otherwise relaxed and at ease. The blonde is amazed to hear Harry confide in him as if it's something natural. Perhaps it is between friends?

"You told me about Theo. I think it's only fair that I tell you something, too. And... I think you have to know what happened, otherwise you'll never understand why I left."

Draco sits carefully on the bed, far enough from Harry so that they do not touch each other.

"I understand why you left. Salazar knows I thought about leaving often enough in the past years. Hell, I live in Muggle London. But... Why don't you want to use magic anymore?"

"Because I'm afraid of what I'm able to do. I've seen what magic can do. How dark and dangerous it can be. I've hurt with it. I've killed with it. I just... don't want it anymore. I lived like a Muggle half of my life. It doesn't bother me. And it's safer."

"Harry, it doesn't make sense. A knife is muggle. It can hurt and kill. But it's just a tool, in the end: what matters is what you're doing with it. And it's the same with magic. Weasley uses his magic to protect people and catch the villains. Hermione uses it for research and to help non-humans magical creatures. Even I use it to heal people, and you of all people know who I am."

Harry bits his lip – apparently it's a nervous habit of his – and casts a pained look at Draco.

"I know. You're all good people."

"And what do you think you are? You're probably the most noble and selfless Gryffindor in the whole world. And you got rid of the darkest wizard ever, I-"

"There's something no one knows." Harry interrupts. He seems to steel himself, removing his hand from Prince's head hugging his knees with both his arms. He then speaks so quietly that Draco has to lean forward to hear him.

"After I killed Voldemort, my magic changed. It became... more powerful. Much more powerful. I don't know why, and I'm not sure I want to know. And... after that... Every time I got angry, I would release raw magic. And it actually felt... sort of good. After a while, I was more and more afraid of my own power. That's why I completely gave up magic."

"You're an idiot."

Harry looks up suddenly, looking both surprised and offended, and Draco rolls his eyes.

"You're convinced that you somehow took some of Voldemort power and that his evil magic now runs in your blood, aren't you?" Harry doesn't answer, but he doesn't need to. "Well, that's bullshit. It doesn't work like that. That's why everybody was so suprised that somebody had been able to took your magic. You can't exchange magic with someone else. You can't use someone else's magic, as far as we know. It's your own. That's why every wizard has a magical signature. Like your fingerprints, it's unique. But when you achieve a great act of magic, like, let's say, killing the most powerful wizard the world has known, you may sometimes experience a boost of your magical abilities. Some specialists think it might simply be due to the human psyche and the fact that our self-confidence plays a great role in our abilities in general, but nothing is certain. In any case, it's perfectly normal. And your magic isn't evil. I bet there's not a single cell in your body that is evil, Harry."

Draco finds himself suddenly with an armful of crying dark-haired hero, and he can't help but close his eyes. Shit. It feels so good.

"Hey, it's alright. You'll be alright, Harry, I promise. Why didn't you talk about it with Hermione? I'm sure she knows what I've told you... And even if she doesn't, you know she would have searched about it. Are you so afraid of losing them?"

He feels Harry nods against his shoulder.

"It's true that I don't like them very much, especially Weasley, but there's one thing I know about them. They love you. You should know that they would not let you down."

Draco is suddenly aware that he's rocking Harry like he would a small child. That thought makes him think about something. Something that could explain why Harry seems so unsure about the obvious affection of his friends. Why he has kept his worries and his doubts to himself for years.

"Harry... Were your relatives taking good care of you?"

Harry stiffens in his arms and pulls away, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. His face is suddenly closed, his eyes guarded.

"I think you should take care of those wards now, Draco."

That's the dismissal of the year. Well done, Draco, the blonde thinks as he leaves the room.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN:** This chapter contains mention of child neglect and abuse. R&R please!

"I've found instant noodles in the kitchen. I hope you like them because that's all we've got right now. You're lucky, they're vegetable flavored. Not that I think there are real vegetables in that thing, mind you."

Draco hands Harry the bowl with the noodles and transfigures a old book in a chair. He sits next to the bed, and begins to eat. He can't not help but wrinkling his nose in disgust, and Harry chuckles, and Merlin, it's good to know the other man isn't to crossed with him.

"Shut up, Harry. This tastes vile. How can you abide the stuff?" Harry shrugs before answering quietly, in a matter-of-fact tone that speaks volumes.

"When you don't know when you'll eat next, you just swallow whatever it is you have right now."

"That's why you were always so happy to get back to school, isn't it? I remember how you seemed to enjoy the meals in Hogwarts. I didn't understand how such a simple thing could make you that happy, at the time."

"You noticed that? No one else had, you know."

"Well, we both know we spent a very unhealthy amount of time watching each other at school. I'm sure you noticed things about me too." Well, Draco really hopes so, otherwise he'll really feel like an obsessive stalker.

"Yes, I did".

They eat in silence for a while – and Draco swears he will buy groceries this afternoon, because there's no way he'll eat this disgusting thing again. Suddenly Harry speaks again, his eyes focused on his bowl, as though he cannot bear to look at Draco.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. It's just... I don't talk about that. At all. I don't want to even think about it. It's a bit ridiculous, because they weren't so bad I guess, but... It still hurts."

"The newspapers said you had a 'difficult childhood' after the war, but I thought they were referring to the fact that you're an orphan. But that's not the whole story, is it?"

Harry shakes his head, his fingers playing nervously with his fork.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, you know. But in my experience as a healer, it helps. I'll go and make us some tea. Salazar knows I have to wash those awful noodles down."

As Draco prepares two mugs of strong tea, he hopes that Harry will not want to talk about his childhood. He's not good with those things. Healing bodies, casting spells and checking on patients, that's something he understands, something he knows he's good at. He has always been a fairly good wizard, has gotten excellent grades in school and gone through his Healer training easily enough. But dealing with distraught, traumatized patients... It's easier with children, somehow.

But Harry settles the matter for him in that typical gryffindorish way of his as soon as Draco enters the bedroom again.

"If I tell you about my childhood, will you tell me about yours?"

Draco gapes. He's aware of it, but his brains can't seem to be able to do something about this embarassing fact. Telling Harry about his childhood? No fucking way. No.

If Harry was someone else, Draco would suspect the whole thing to be a very nasty trick. A devious mean to get information from him, and to use it against him later. But Harry is watching him with those disturbingly honest eyes of his, and he looks afraid and hopeful, and Draco knows it's not a game for him. It's rather a matter of trust. And if Draco rejects Harry now, something will be broken between them, it will somehow shatter the fragile friendship they have built. Harry will accept his decision bravely, as always, but Draco can already see his face fall in disappointment and his shoulders slump with the weight of Draco's rejection. Shit.

"Okay" he hears himself say, and Merlin, how badly he wants to just turn on his heels and leave. Instead he gives Harry his mug of tea and sits down on the transfigured chair again. Harry speaks very quickly then, as if he has gathered his courage and wants to get over this as soon as possible.

"After my parents died, I was left with my aunt and my uncle. They did not always feed me. Most of the time I ate the cold leftovers. I had to do the chores. Cook the breakfast. Clean the house. Take care of the garden. That type of things. I... I was locked, too. As a child I had no bedroom, I slept in a cupboard under the stairs, and they locked me in it. Then I was given my cousin's second room, and they kept on locking me in, even putting bars on the window to ensure I could not escape. I think... I think they were a bit afraid of me. Either that or they just hated me, I don't know. And I had to go back year after year, because the house of my aunt protected me. Blood magic. I think that more than food or toys, I missed love. Affection."

There's nothing Draco could answer to that. So he doesn't. Instead he fills his half of their deal.

"I was a spoiled child. I had everything I could want. I don't think I've been really hungry once as a child. But... I have seen things no child should see. Dark magic. Things that frightened me. And I was terrified of my father, because he was the one doing those things. When V-Voldemort rose again, it became worse. I had to prove myself as a Malfoy. As a future Death Eater. I didn't want to become one. But it was forced upon me, as was my mission. I hated my father even more, because at least as a child I thought he was a strong man, I thought he would always protect me and my mother. But he wasn't even able to do that. And then you found me in the bathroom and we fought. I lost, of course. When my father heard about it, he was downright furious. As soon as I got back home with Severus after... after Dumbledore died, he forced me to duel with him. Each time he would hit me with Sectumsempra, and each time Severus had to heal me. In the end I had so many scars and was so weak that Severus begged my father to stop the 'lessons', because he feared I would not survive another one."

"Shit, I'm so sorry."

"Don't. You're no more responsible for my crazy father than I am for your abusive relatives. Besides, we survived, didn't we?"

"Yes. We did."

"And that's what you do. No matter what, you survive. That's what I always admired in you. You never stopped fighting. And you won't stop now."

As Draco stands up to leave, Harry catches his wrist. The blonde hopes Harry did not see how his hands were shaking as he told him about his father. How it still affects him even after all these years. He doesn't want anyone's pity, and especially not from Harry.

"You too."

"What?"

"You survived everything you had to go through. And more than that, you managed to do something good with your life. You're a healer, and a very good one, if I may say so as your patient." Harry smirks playfully and Draco feels himself smiling in return. "And... You'll survive what Theo did to you, too. And one day someone will be very lucky to love you and to have your love."

There are tears pooling in his eyes and he cannot meet Harry's eyes. Not after what he said. Not with the way his thumb caress Draco's wrist absently, in a soothing way. After what seems hours, he snatches his hand away and glares at the dark haired man, who's still looking at him with a soft smile. Damn.

"Enough of the emotional stuff, Potter. Did you ward your Floo? I tried to Firecall Hermione earlier, but it didn't work."

"Oh! Yes, I did. I will open it for you right away. Sorry about that."

"It's bad enough that I have to speak with your friends, especially with Weasley looking ready to Crucio me at the first occasion. Spare me the technical problems. I'll go fix the room across the hall for myself. There's enough dust and Doxies to kill me in one night in there, you know."

Harry's joyful laugh follows him in the hall and Draco knows it's too late. It's too late to play safe and keep away from Harry. It's too late to pretend he doesn't care for him more than he ever did for any of his patients. It's probably been too late from the moment he has found the injured man.

Fucking dog.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN:** **This chapter is just a short interlude in Harry's POV!** The story will otherwise stay in Draco's POV, with maybe some other interludes, but I'll always warn you beforehand. Enjoy, and please, please review!

_Harry laughs and watches Draco leave the room, all graceful steps and tall frame and soft-looking hair. Merlin, he wishes he was half as elegant, but most of the time he feels clumsy and out of place. Draco is nothing like the pointy faced boy Harry remembers from school, or like the frightened and exhausted teenager he saw at the trial. At first it has been hard for Harry to accept this new Draco Malfoy, the Healer, the kind and composed man who has nursed him back to health without asking for anything in return._

_As much as Harry longs to have his quiet muggle life back, he hopes Draco will remain his friend. There's something about him that feels familiar. It's like Harry doesn't have to lie with him. Like he doesn't have to pretend. Perhaps Draco understands the darkness better than anyone else. He seems as alone as Harry feels – granted, there are Hermione and Ron, but they have somehow grown apart during the last two years. It's only his fault, Harry knows it – he was not able to have a normal life after the war. Then again, when has he ever been normal? It's just another manifestation of his freakish nature, after all. Everybody was able to get over the war. Everybody but him._

_But it's alright. As long as he still has Hermione and Ron's friendship, he'll be alright. And maybe Draco's, too. It would be nice to have someone like him as his friend – if Draco is willing to see him again after all this mess is fixed, because Harry is not sure if Draco sees something else than a patient in him._

_He'll have to keep an eye on him, in any case. Nott – that fucking bastard – will certainly try something again. He seemed unhealthily obsessed with Draco, and next time he could really hurt the blonde, if nobody else is there. The memory of Nott choking a powerless Draco is enough to make his anger flare, and Harry feels his magic, weak and shy but still there, prickling under his skin. And the idea of Draco being once in love with that man disturbs him more than it should. He deserves so much better. Maybe he could ask Hermione and Ron if they know any single gay wizard. A kind and caring man that would be right for him. Harry shifts in the bed, snuggling against Prince's warm fur._

_Somehow picturing Draco with some random wizard is wrong. He'll have to check on the man before presenting him to Draco, if it comes to that. Maybe have Ron digging at the Ministry to be sure nothing's wrong with Draco's potential boyfriend. Lover. Partner._

_Or maybe Draco could stay single. Seems like a better idea, he thinks as he's slowly falling asleep._


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN:** And the new chapter is here! Hope you'll enjoy it... And please, review, I'm review starved *cries hopelessly* - is it too much?

"Oh, just come through, Harry's sleeping anyway and it's fucking annoying to have Weasley muttering in the background. Not to mention my knees are hurting."

Hermione's head smiles apologetically and nods once. Draco stands up and takes a few steps back, waiting for Hermione and Weasley. They are worried to discover there had been an incident causing Harry and Draco to move in Grimmauld Place, and apparently Weasley and his Irish partner have not made any progress concerning Harry's attack. The very pregnant bushy-haired girl and her annoying husband soon step out of the fireplace.

As much as Draco dislikes the red head, he has to admit he seems to take good care of the ones he loves. It shows in the way he behaves with his wife, or with Harry, in the protective looks and the small touches he gives them. It seems natural to him. He may not be the smartest bloke around and he's far too hot-headed, but he's certainly a fierce protector and a loyal friend. They need him, and Draco knows he has to make an effort for Harry's sake. He leads them to the kitchen, which looks slightly better now that it has been thoroughly cleaned.

"Please, take a seat. Hermione, would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you Draco."

"Then I guess I'll explain first what happened."

As Draco tells them how they were surprised by Nott and how Harry saved him, he can see Weasley fidgeting in his chair in front of him, apparently ill at ease. Is he homophobic? Or is it something else that is disturbing him? Hermione just listens intently, solely focused on Draco.

"Harry thought of this place right away, and here we are. I've strengthened the wards with my own blood wards – the house recognized me as a Black so it was easier. I think we are pretty safe for the time being."

"Malfoy... Why didn't you report Nott for domestic violence?"

"What?"

Draco is sure he didn't hear right. Did Weasley really say what Draco thinks he has heard?

"Why didn't you report him? We have a small specialized team of Aurors that work only on such cases, you know."

"You're joking, right?"

"Actually, he's right, Draco. You should go and report him. God only knows what he could do to his next boyfriend. And besides, he has to be punished for what he did to you."

"Are you suggesting that I go to the Ministry, and fill a report against my ex-boyfriend for using me as his own personal punching-ball for months? So that everybody knows not only that I'm gay, but that I let myself be abused and beaten? I bet the newspapers would have a field day, really!"

"Malfoy, don't be stupid. The Aurors can't say anything to the press unless specifically authorized. We all take an oath during our training. Nobody needs to know."

Draco stands up, his anger and his shame threatening to choke him. He wants to hide. He wants to punch Weasley for looking at him with such understanding in his eyes. He wants to throw up at the mere thought of anybody else knowing about his fucked-up relationship with Nott.

"I said no. Now do you want to discuss about Harry or do you prefer to get the hell out of here right now?"

Hermione is watching him with a soft look. There's no pity in her eyes, much to Draco's surprise. No, it almost looks like... tenderness?

"It's okay, Draco. Nobody will make you do anything you don't want to do. Just think about it, will you? So, concerning Harry... Ron already told you what he and Seamus found... Nothing. They're currently trying to locate every ex-Death Eaters who are not in Azkaban as well as their sons, but until now they did not find anything interesting. I've done some research on the curse, but I must admit I'm at loss. And books about Dark Magic are strictly kept at the Ministry since the end of the war. I asked Kingsley for a special authorization, but I'm still waiting for his answer."

"Erm... actually... I could help you with the books part."

Weasley raises both eyebrows and Hermione's eyes sparkle a bit frighteningly at the mention of books.

"It is possible that I've, er, forgotten to give some of my books on Dark curses to the Ministry officials."

Hermione is now smiling like a Cheshire cat, and Weasley scowls. Draco allows himself to smirk.

"They are really useful for a Healer, you know. Books are not evil, it's stupid to think that people will stop using Dark curses because you took the books away. We need the books to have the counter spells and appropriate healing potions."

"Exactly what I've always said to Kingsley. So, where are those books?"

"Accio trunk!"

His old school trunk is suddenly there, still filled with his clothes and personal items since he didn't have time to unpack yet. But at the back of the trunk, there's a magical hidden space. A hidden space where he keeps a few shrunken books about Dark curses, as well as his diary from school. He shivers when he thinks about the things he wrote in that book. That's why he keeps it. To never forget what he's done. What he's responsible of. To never do the same mistakes again.

Draco clears his throat and reaches for the books, tapping his wand on each one to resize it properly.

"I think this one could help us... and maybe this one, too. I'll make tea."

They spend two hours reading, sometimes reading a sentence out loud and asking the others for their opinion. It seems hopeless, Draco thinks. They don't even know where to begin.

"Maybe we should just wait until we catch those wizards." Weasley rubs his eyes tiredly.

"We have to help Harry, Ron. They took his magic! Can you imagine how he must feel?"

"Actually Hermione, Harry said he did not care, you know." Draco says softly.

"Oh come on, he's not better that a Squib now, of course he cares! Who would like to be like that?" Weasley shouts.

Draco raises his head to answer, and he spots Harry standing frozen in the hallway, his wide eyes staring at the back of Weasley's head. Shit.

"Weasley, just shut up."

Draco stands up, but Harry has already fled. He sighs heavily, trying to figure out how the hell he will make that alright, now.

HP-HP-HP-HP

After Hermione and Weasley are gone, taking with them half of Draco's books, the blonde tries to find Harry. He finally spots him in a dusty study on the second floor. He's looking outside – though Draco wonders if he actually can see anything through the filthy window.

"Harry?"

"You agree with him, don't you? You think I should want to get my magic back. You think I'm useless without it."

"No, actually I don't. Well I would like you to want it back, because I think you're an amazing wizard, and it's kind of wrong to see you without all that power. But I don't think any less of you. With or without magic, you're the same man. You're strong, brave and stupidly selfless. You are smart when you want to, and you are a kind and good man, even if I think you are much too forgiving and trusting for your own good. It has nothing to do with your magic."

Harry slowly turns around, looking at Draco with those too-green eyes as if he can read his mind.

"You really think what you said." It's not a question, but Draco nods anyway.

"And don't force me to say it again. I've got a reputation of evil Slytherin git to maintain, you know. Come on, I'm starving. I'll tell you what I learned from your two side-kicks today while I'm cooking something for dinner."

Harry nods. As he passes Draco near the door, he stops and looks the blonde in the eye, his face far too close for Draco's comfort.

"That was sweet, you know. But I promise I won't tell anybody."

Harry squeezes Draco's hand once before letting go, and there's an amazing smile on his lips, the kind of smile Draco's sure nobody has ever given him. He finds it suddenly hard to breathe, but it's a good feeling. He knows he shouldn't allow himself to enjoy it. He knows he doesn't deserve this kind of smile, this kind of gentle touch. But as he follows Harry down the stairs, his eyes riveted to the dark messy hair ahead of him, he's not able to crush the warm feeling blossoming in his belly, in his heart, in his soul.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **And here's chapter 14! I've begun another new story too. called 'What muggles don't know'. It's mainly a Severus/OC story, but with a hint of DM/HP, too. Go check it please ^^ ! And now, enjoy and R&R please!

"Shouldn't we warn your friends and colleagues? Maybe your girlfriend?" Draco blurts out in the middle of their dinner – canned tomato soup and toasts. Shit, maybe he could pretend he didn't say anything? Harry raises his messy dark head, looking adorably confused – no, not adorably, just… cute. Shit, that's bad.

"What?"

"Hum… I mean your friends will probably be worried not to see you for days, won't they?"

"Hermione has already told my colleagues at the rescue shelter that I've been injured and won't come for a few more days. They're basically my friends, too. And I don't have a girlfriend. After Ginny… Well let's just say I wasn't ready to start another relationship. I haven't found anyone that I'd like this way yet anyway."

"Oh. Alright then."

He's not blushing. The soup is just too hot.

"Did you keep in touch with any of your school's friends?"

Draco has to laugh.

"What friends? Crabbe and Goyle weren't friends. Merely allies. And Gregory thinks I'm responsible for Vincent's death, he wouldn't have anything to do with me. Last I heard he lived somewhere in Norway. Pansy and Blaise are married. They wisely stayed away from trouble during the war, and being associated with me would taint their brand new respectability. And Theo… Well you already know what happened with Theo."

When he thinks about it, he realizes he fell for Theo partly because of his overwhelming loneliness and the fact they were already acquaintances. It was easier, somehow. Theo already knew all about Draco's past and did not mind about his Dark Mark. Probably because he knew he could use it against Draco, use his past and his loneliness to make him dependent and even more self-conscious. Theo had said it often enough: who else would want Draco?

"I'm sorry."

Harry's deep voice shakes him from those depressing thoughts.

"Well, don't be. It's not your fault I was a bastard and never had real friends. It was only my doing. Still is."

"No it's not. I'm your friend now. And Hermione and Ron will be soon enough. And good luck getting rid of those two once they are."

"Please, Harry. How fucking stupid do you think I am? You'll get back to your life as soon as you attackers are in Azkaban, as you should. And the Weasley's dream team will forget about me just as quickly. And that's better for everyone."

And how come that statement actually hurts that much? He has always known it. It should not be that painful. Everything will be as it should.

"Of course not!"

Harry seems upset, his green eyes flashing almost dangerously. Draco rolls his eyes.

"I'm perfectly aware of who I am. And of who you are. With or without magic, in the muggle or in the wizarding world, it doesn't matter. You just can't be my friend. Evil Death Eater, remember? Good night, Harry."

And with that, Draco leaves. He does not flee. He just doesn't want to see Harry's face right now. He doesn't think he could bear to see the pity and the disgust here.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Draco wakes up screaming, damp with cold sweat and tears. Prince is not next to him as he usually does, and Draco can't breathe, it's too much and… And the door bangs open, he hears Prince's almost silent steps on the rug and the dog jumps on the bed. Draco hangs onto the dog, trying to slow his heartbeat and to stop shuddering with the memories he's just relived. After a few seconds, there's a shift of the bed and a warm body is suddenly behind him, a hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

"Get out before I hex you, Potter."

"Don't be ridiculous. Do you think I don't know exactly how it feels to wake up like that? I'm sorry Prince wasn't there, he somehow sneaked with me a few hours ago."

"I said get out, Potter."

"Yes, yes. Did you put silencing charms on previous nights? I didn't hear you once. I used to do that, you know. You shouldn't do it with me, though. "

Draco doesn't know how to answer that. And he's trying very hard not to enjoy the comfort that Harry is providing. Not to think of the warmth. Of the hand running up and down his shoulder in a soothing way. Of the fact that it's the very first time anyone human has ever helped him feel better after a nightmare. Of how Nott just used to kick him out of the bedroom in the middle of the night for daring waking him up.

"You okay?" Harry whispers far too close of Draco's ear. The blonde is only able to nod. Prince is lying against his chest, and Harry is spooned against his back in a both respecting and friendly way, and Salazar helps him but it feels too good to be true. Too good to be something he actually deserves.

"I won't tell anyone, you know. Just go back to sleep."

Astonishingly, Draco does.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Draco reads the letter again. His mother is apparently sick with worry since she could not reach him through the Floo at his flat and he's feeling slightly guilty for that. He looks up and can't help but smile. Harry is still sleeping, sprawled on his front with his face almost completely hidden in the pillow. Prince has gone downstairs a few minutes ago, and the post owl has woken Draco a bit earlier.

Draco shakes the other man's arm and nearly laughs out loud when Harry grunts grumpily.

"Wha? Too early, lemme sleep."

Apparently Harry is not a morning person. At all.

"Harry… Might I use your Floo to call my mother? She wrote to me and she's worried. I want to tell her I'm safe and sound."

"Yeah, yeah. Just do that."

Draco chuckles as he thinks Harry would probably have agreed to anything in his state. That's something he needs to remember. Might come in handy.

His mother is way too thin, and she seems exhausted, even though the Floo. Draco's chest clenches painfully at the sight, and he wishes she had agreed to stay with him.

"Mother?"

"Oh, Draco! I was so worried! Are you alright?"

"Yes, Mother, I'm alright. I'm sorry, I've had an emergency with a patient and had to go out of town. I'll soon be back in my flat."

"Draco, Theodore Nott wrote to your father yesterday."

Shit, shit, shit. That's not good.

"He told him you were… well.. not interested in women. And that the two of you are in a relationship."

"Were. We were in a relationship."

"Well, the young Nott told your father he has been trying to make you behave like a true Pureblood, that he's been protecting you and taking care of you, and that you somehow betrayed him… And… that Harry Potter was with you last time he saw you."

The nerve of that bastard. How dare he complain to his father? Pretending he's been like a good and caring boyfriend to him?

"I left Theo a few weeks ago." Fuck, there comes something he would rather not admit to his own mother, but she has to understand what's going on. "He… Mother, he wasn't good to me. He just used me, he took advantage from my loneliness. He used to beat me. I could not stand it anymore, so I left him. Harry… Potter doesn't have to do anything with it. He's my patient, Mother."

His Mother's face looks even more exhausted, and her eyes are shining way too much.

"Oh Draco… I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that… I wish I were here with you… Are your friends on your side?"

"Yes, they are. Good Morning Mrs Malfoy."

Draco turns around so fast that his neck makes a weird and quite worrying noise. Harry kneels next to him, thankfully not his pajamas any more but dressed in his worn out jeans and a tight blue tee-shirt.

"We won't let him get hurt again, Mrs Malfoy. You've got my word."

Narcissa Malfoy nods a bit stiffly, but there is the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Good. I'll hold you to that, Mr Potter. Draco told me you're his patient. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm better, thank you. Will Lucius do anything about what Nott told him?"

"I would like to answer that he won't, but… I'm not sure. He was pretty upset last night, rambling about how Draco could have at least be a proper boyfriend to the younger Nott, and do some good to his reputation in pureblood circles… you both know how he is."

"Unfortunately, yes." Harry says with a grimace.

"Mother, that's quite enough. I'll be fine. I don't care what Lucius or anybody else thinks. As long as you…"

He cannot say the words, not with Harry kneeling next to him, and even if he needs to hear Narcissa's answer so badly it actually makes his hands shake. But his mother knows him well and smiles fondly.

"I love you, Draco. Always have, always will. Take care of yourself and I'll deal with your father. I might not be a Malfoy, but I'm a Black. And as Harry knows very well, Blacks are quite stubborn and they protect their own. Have a good day, both of you."

Narcissa's head disappears and they draw back. Harry is looking at him with a half-smile and Draco wonders when the hell the world has gone crazy. He cannot believe his mother just joked with Harry and seemed to make a deal with the Savior. Then he has a doubt.

"Harry… You're aware you've just made a deal with my mother, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. She deals with your father, and I'll try to keep up with you. I wonder who's got the worst part, though."

Draco watches with wide eyes as Harry smirks and leaves the room. Fucking hell. The world has gone crazy.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **Thanks for the nice reviews! Enjoy the new chapter and as usual, review pretty please!

Three days go uneventfully and then Weasley stumbles out of the Floo one evening, out of breath and his face flushed.

"We got them… Harry… We got them!"

"What?"

Harry stands up from his spot on the couch, his book on Indian recipes falling to the ground with a loud stump. Draco puts his own book aside – a very interesting volume treating of various herbs' healing properties.

"I didn't want to worry you, but we've had two murder cases in the past week. Both adult wizards who were somehow magically depleted and stabbed in the back. One was found in Knockturn Alley, the other one in a Muggle part of London. I think their success make them grow bolder, and this afternoon they tried to take a witch in Diagon Alley. But Tom from the Leaky Cauldron saw them and managed to make enough noise to draw attention on them while one of his patrons fire-called the Aurors. We've got them at the Ministry. All three of them."

"Who? Who are they?"

Harry's voice is steady and strong, like it doesn't affect him at all. Draco knows it's not true, but he can't see any sign of anxiety or nervousness in his posture or his expression.

"We know them from school, Harry. All of them. Marcus Flint. Dennis Creevey."

"Dennis? Really? Oh, fuck…"

Harry seems shaken. He probably has not expected a Griffyndor to be capable of such things.

"He wrote to me, after the war… After Colin's death. He was so lost… He asked for my help… But… I- I was barely able to care of myself, I couldn't do anything for him. I told him to contact McGonagall. I never heard about him again… Shit…"

"Their leader is Blaise Zabini." Weasley interrupts, and it's Draco's turn to be surprised. Blaise? "He was always quite smart. He probably convinced Dennis that you didn't care about him, about Colin. Used his grief and despair to make him join them, to make him feel like he belonged somewhere, or something like that, you know. It's not your fault, Harry."

Weasley takes Harry in his arms, letting the smaller man cling to him desperately, and Draco feels the vicious pang of jealousy deep in his belly. He has no right to feel that way, because Harry is nothing more than his patient, and he will soon be out of his life, and of course Weasley is Harry's best friend and it's perfectly understandable that they're hugging this way. Draco wonders how it feels, to be hugged like that.

"Malfoy, I'll need you."

"Me?"

"Zabini is obviously their leader. Dennis has admitted it almost instantly, and he told us that Flint killed their victims. Always has been quite vicious, this one. But we're not able to make Zabini talk. We need you to tell us everything you know about him. About his weaknesses, his relatives, his friends. Anything that could help us to break him."

"Break Blaise? Good luck with that."

"We have to try. Dennis didn't know anything about the spell they've been using. Apparently he was only there to watch the streets, checking the surroundings, finding the easiest victims, that sort of things. Harry was the only victim to be chosen, the other ones were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Oh great. Just what he needs, really. Help the Aurors to put Blaise in Azkaban. Shit, why him? Harry slowly turns to look at him, breaking Weasley's embrace and putting his arms around himself as if he feels cold.

"You don't have to, you know."

"Harry, we need him, we have to find everything about the curse and its counter-spell, to have-"

"No, Ron. You don't need him to put Zabini and the others in jail. I'll testify if you need me to, but I don't care about the spell. As long as there's punished for the people they killed, it's okay with me. Draco has healed me, he has kept me safe and did not ask for anything in return. I will not have him forced to do anything he doesn't want to."

And just like that, Draco knows he will do whatever it takes to make Blaise talk. Just because Harry doesn't want him to do it if he doesn't want to. Just because he's watching him with those bright and honest and gentle eyes of his.

And, well. Maybe because Draco wants to prove he's not the spineless coward everybody thinks he is. Maybe because he wants to prove Harry he has changed. It's a foolish hope. It's a weakness he should not allow himself. But he cannot help it.

"I'll help you, Weasley. But there's no way I'll go to the Ministry. I'll tell you everything I know about Blaise right here. You can record me if you want, though."

"Fine with me, Malfoy. Thanks."

Weasley nods at him, and there's something more respectful about his demeanor.

Draco sits on the couch again, and he closes his eyes to gather his thoughts. He feels someone sits beside him, and he supposes it's Weasley. But a hand comes to rest on his knee, and he knows it's Harry, and he wishes for a half-second it was something else than a friendly and reassuring touch.

"Okay. Blaise does not value friendship or relationships in general. He's a selfish bastard, he's smart and he's a good strategist. He has enough money – his father had left him a substantial amount of Galleons, his mother is filthy rich and he has married Pansy. Pansy has a successful business in witches fashion, and her own parents are one of the wealthiest pureblood families in England. What Blaise craves is power. He has always been an average wizard, both in magical power and in knowledge. That must be his main motivation. If he somehow has found a way to steal other's magic and to use it, it would have been enough to make him risk his respectability."

"Okay. That's for his motives. What could be his weaknesses? You said he doesn't value friendship, but maybe his family could be a mean to make him talk?"

"No. He only has his mother, and he despises her. She's had too many husbands to maintain a proper status in the pureblood circles. His father is dead and he never cared for any of his mother's husbands. I think his only weak point would be Pansy. She's probably the only person he loves more than himself. If you want him to talk, you'll have to use her."

"That's good."

"I wouldn't be so optimistic if I were you, Weasley. Pansy is a tough girl, and a true Slytherin. Be careful if you deal with her."

"I'll be sure to ask you for tips if it comes to that, Malfoy. I'll be back as soon as something happens. It would be better for you too to stay safe here for the time being. I'd prefer to be sure there isn't anyone else involved in this before you go back to your respective flats."

"Okay Ron. Thanks, mate. I'm glad you're here for me."

"I know, Harry. Don't think too much about Dennis, will you? Good evening, you two."

Weasley disappears through the Floo and Harry and Draco stand a bit awkwardly in Grimmauld Place gloomy living-room.

"Thanks, Draco. It's really-"

"Don't say anything about it, please. I'm still wondering about my sanity right now."

Harry smiles softly and comes forward, and he's far too close, and suddenly he's hugging Draco tightly, his dark head resting on Draco's shoulder, and just for an instant, Draco hugs back, enjoying the too-warm body against his, the thick and messy hair tickling his face, the strong arms around him. Prince barks joyfully, breaking the moment and making Harry laugh.

Maybe he could lose Prince somewhere in the Forbidden Forest tomorrow.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **And the new chapter! A quiet one before things go more complicated again ^^ ! Enjoy, and, please, review!

"Harry? Harry, where the fucking hell are you hiding? If I have to search another dusty and creepy bedroom with dead house-elves heads on the walls I swear I- ah, there you are."

Harry did a good job pretending everything was alright just after Weasley's visit the day before, but this morning he was nowhere to be found and Draco has had no choice but to search every room of the damn house.

The Savior of the Wizarding World is sitting on the dirty floor of what looks like a bathroom – with black tiles and a tub that has what look like skulls for feet.

"You know, I've seen my fair share of Purebloods creepy houses, but I think this one is the worst. Are those human skulls?"

Harry shrugs, not even raising his messy head from his hands. His elbows rest on his knees, and he looks smaller than he is. Younger, too. He looks fragile and helpless. He looks nothing like the strong and determined teenager who defeated the Dark Lord and came to Draco's rescue during his trial. It actually hurts a little to see him like that, and Draco is glad that no one but him is here right now. That no one but him sees Harry breaking down, his shoulders shuddering as he weeps so quietly that Draco needs a few seconds to realize what is happening.

The blonde man carefully sits down next to the raven haired man, trying to avoid thinking of his expensive trousers on the disgusting floor.

"What's wrong? Well, I know what's wrong, but what is especially disturbing you?"

Harry shrugs again, and Draco hesitates just for a second before sneaking an arm around Harry's back and dragging him closer. Harry stiffens slightly at first and Draco hopes it wasn't a mistake, but then the body in his arms relaxes and he releases a relieved sigh.

"Is it because of that Creevey kid? Dennis? Because you think you could have helped him?"

"I should have. I should have helped him. What kind of person am I? I let him down, I refused to help him, and now he'll face a trial and probably Azkaban, because of me. Shit…"

"That's complete bullshit. You're human, Harry. Yes, you did great things. Yes, you're a hero. But that doesn't mean you're not allowed to be human. And it certainly doesn't mean you have to save everybody. You told it yourself yesterday; you were barely able to take care of yourself at the time, and you did write him back. Sending him to McGonagall was the right thing to do."

"I should have tried more. I should-"

"For fuck's sake, will you shut the fuck up and try to think about it? It was just after the war. You had gone through hell during the whole war, and before that your life had not exactly been a walk in the park, had it? You were tired, you were traumatized and hurt. And you had every reason to. You were only seventeen, and forced to do things no adults should do. You could not have helped him, and more important you had to think of yourself first for once. Did you tell Dennis to become angry and bitter  
and to join the wrong persons? No. Are you responsible for the mistakes he made? No. We all make choices, Harry. He made his, they were wrong, and you have nothing to do with it. End of story."

"I don't know. It seems selfish…"

"No, it's not. It's only survival."

"That's also why I left the Wizarding World, you know. Everyone expects so much from me, and I'm just me, I'm just Harry, but somehow they want me to do miracles. To make everything alright. And I can't."

"Well, they're morons. I've always thought most people are utterly stupid anyway."

Harry laughs against Draco's chest, and it's a good sound. Harry's laugh is deep and rich and beautiful. It suits him, to laugh like that. Draco grins stupidly and for once he's not ashamed to do so.

"Now that we've established that people are morons and that you've got a bad case of hero-complex coupled with a misplaced guilt, could we please get out of this disgusting place? I'm not even sure my trousers will survive all the dirt."

Harry laughs some more and they stand up a bit awkwardly, dusting their trousers and looking at each other with half-smiles and pink cheeks.

"Hungry?"

"Starving."

"Good. I've bought pancakes and bacon at that little café down the road. Now come on before everything gets cold."

"We should buy some groceries. I know you said you didn't cook much, but I do."

"You do?"

"Don't look at me like that, it's a bit frightening. Yes I do."

"Great. I want pasta for dinner. With Alfredo sauce and maybe one of those fancy salads with dressing. And dessert."

"Yes, Sir."

"I like the sound of that, you know."

"I bet you do. Don't get used to it, though. Only joking. But you'll better get me all the necessary ingredients and maybe buy a new pot."

"Yes, M'am."

"Wanker."

It's Draco's turn to laugh, and Harry joins him, and for one precious moment, everything seems right.

HP-HP-HP-HP

"Harry, you should open a restaurant. And believe me, I hate to pay compliment in general and to you in particular. Merlin, I can't eat another bite or I'll explode."

"Thanks. Draco… Do you think I could testify for Dennis?"

"Like you did for me?"

"That was different."

"How?"

"I don't think you really had a choice – you were forced to take the Dark Mark, forced to make Greyback and the others get in Hogwarts. Voldemort would have killed you or your family if you had done otherwise, and even if I'm sure that Snape or Dumbledore could have protected you, I can understand why you didn't ask for help. And in the end, when you really had the choice, you refused to kill Dumbledore. You think it was cowardice, but I know that it takes more courage to refuse to be a killer than to obey orders. Dennis had a choice, I understand that now. I just want to explain to the judges how he felt after the war and what could have brought him where he is now."

"You're really a Gryffindor, aren't you? Always ready to do what is good and right. But yes, I think you can. I think you should, even, because you won't forgive yourself if you don't."

Harry smiles softly and nods.

"After… I mean… When we'll be authorized to go back to our flats… Will you remain my friend? Will we see each other sometimes? I could cook us dinner or we could go for a walk with Prince, you know, that sort of things."

The damn idiot is watching him with wide green eyes, all bright honesty and hopeful smile and ridiculous hair.

"Of course, Harry. Of course."

Of course he will. He will, and that painful clench of his chest each time he sees the other man will only become more painful, and that foolish hope will consume him in a slow agony.

But when has his life led to anything but pain and hopelessness? At least he'll have friendship. Which is more than he had just a few weeks ago.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: Thanks for the wonderful reviews! **I'll try to write a chapter every two days - I'm working on 'What Muggles don't know', too. You know what they say... A chapter a day keeps the doctor away :D ! R&R please!

It's becoming a habit, and it's a really bad one. Draco wakes up once more wrapped in Harry's warmth. He's lying on his back, and the dark haired man is snuggled on his right side with one arm draped over his waist. And Prince is snoring softly from his spot at the foot of the bed. He can barely recall what this night's nightmare had been about, just Prince's whimpers and then warmth and soft spoken words. The worst of it is that he could cast Silencing Charms, and thus avoid awakening Harry. He should have been doing so since the first incident. He tells himself he'll do it every night, and he doesn't. And he prefers not to think too much about why exactly he doesn't.

It's the third time it happens. Draco feels as awkward this morning as he had felt the first two times. And it doesn't help that Harry behaves like it's perfectly normal to wake up entangled with his former school nemesis on a regular basis. Draco knows the raven haired will smile at him tiredly and ask him if he's alright, and Draco will only be able to nod stupidly, and then Harry will stand up and leave the bedroom to cook them both breakfast, and fuck, but there's a feeling of normalcy and of rightness in it all that shouldn't be there. So Draco just lies here, stiff and stupidly anxious, waiting for Harry to wake up and fighting the urge to wrap his own arms around the Savior. Fighting the voice in his head that tells him how good and right it feels. He's already only too aware of how much he would like to have this for real.

"You okay?"

Shit, he has been so lost in thought he has not realized Harry's awake. The green eyes are looking at him in concern. Even in the near darkness of the bedroom, the messy black hair stand out on the white pillow. Draco nods.

"Draco..." Harry's voice is a soft whisper against his shoulder, and Draco wants to close his eyes. Instead he turns his head a bit to the side, to take a better look at the other man and let him know that he's listening. "There's something I've wanted to tell you, but I didn't know how."

Draco can only blink, his heart hammering in his chest so hard that he's sure Harry can hear it too.

"I think my magic is coming back."

This time Draco has to close his eyes to hide his disappointment – and really, what could have said Harry anyway?

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? I've got to check on you. When has it begun?"

"Hum... After I tried to heal you."

"Okay. The fact that you decided to use magic after so long could have done your magic some good. Stimulated it, somehow."

Draco stands up, grabs his wand and sits on Harry's side of the bed. Harry stays still Draco performs the spells, but his green eyes shine throughout the procedure with something that Draco cannot read.

"You're right. Your magic is much stronger than it was a few days ago. It seems somewhat unstable, but it still can improve. You'll have to practice magic every day, I think you could begin with easy spells like Lumos at first, and then we'll-"

"No, Draco."

"Please, Harry, you need to understand, I can't help you if-"

"I think you need to understand, Draco." Harry sits up and his gaze is suddenly cold and angry. "I don't want to use magic. I explained why and I won't do it again. I thought you were on my side. I won't do anything about my magic. It's coming back on its own, and I thought I should tell you, with you being my Healer, but that's all."

"But, Harry..."

Harry shoves the covers away angrily and stands up. He's looking at Draco with something like disgust in his eyes, as if he sees Draco as he really is for the first time.

"I thought that you, of all people, would understand what it's like to have people forcing you to do things you don't want to do."

And he leaves the room, leaving Draco with the feeling he's just been punched in the gut, and the taste of ashes in his mouth.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Draco doesn't know what to say or what to do to make things better. It's not like he has experience with relationships. Well, with healthy relationships anyway. He's pacing in the living-room, trying desperatly to gather his wits and find something, anything, that would say to Harry how much he's sorry. How much he understands. How much he would hate himself if he was in Harry's place. The Floo flares suddenly and nearly gives him a heart attack. Weasley steps out of the hearth, looking tired and disheveled. Harry almost immediately enters the room, and reaches out to his friend.

"Ron? What's wrong?"

"I think we should all sit down. Malfoy, could make us some tea, please?"

The polite tone Weasley uses with him is more worrying than his rumpled state. Harry must have noticed too, because he frowns and chews at his bottom lip. Draco quickly busies himself with the tea before starting thinking too much about Harry's lips – that's definitely something he doesn't need right now. The two friends sit close together, their arms resting on the kitchen table, and Draco sets three mugs on it before sitting in front of them.

"Zabini poisoned himself this morning. He's dead."

Harry looks horrified, and Draco is too stunned to speak.

"We agreed for him to meet his wife, Parkinson. We hoped she would convince him to talk about the curse, with the promise to try to get him a better cell in Azkaban and regular visits. Apparently she brought him the poison. He used it right after her departure. We cannot prove it, though, she had been searched before the visit and we found nothing. The bastard, what a coward."

"You think like a Gryffindor, Weasley."

"What?"

"It's not about cowardice or bravery. Blaise and Pansy are Slytherins, and Purebloods. It's about honor and social status."

"I don't understand, Malfoy."

"There was no way for Blaise to come out of this untainted. He knew he would end in Azkaban, and the cell or the visits couldn't change the shame of that. Not of what he had done, mind you. The shame of being caught. It's a disgrace. And he knew his wife would suffer because of his acts, too. The only thing left to do, the only honourable way out was death. Pansy will probably have a bit of a rough time for a year or two, and then everybody will just act as if nothing happened."

Weasley and Harry both look at him with wide eyes, and finally Weasley nods sadly.  
"I suppose it makes sense, in a way. But, Harry... That means we have no mean to learn anything about the curse. Hermione is still working on it, of course, but..."

"She should stop. She should take care of herself and just think about the baby."

"Harry, mate, we'll figure it out, we-"

"Weasley." Draco tries to utter the name as gently as he can, looking steadily in the blue eyes to make him understand. It seems to work because the red haired man closes his mouth and nods.

"I guess you can both go back to your flats. We'll be checking on both of you several times a week for a while, until we're certain everything's alright, but, yes. No need for you to stay in that depressing house anymore."

Weasleay stands up and Harry follows him, and then Draco hears their whispers as he's sitting here in the cold kitchen, looking at his hands. Prince comes from nowhere and puts his head on Draco's thigh, silently begging for petting. Draco gives in and runs his hand in the soft fur absentmindly.

It's over. It's over and he's messed up things with Harry, so that he hasn't even the hope of a friendship to comfort him. He suddenly wishes he weren't a Malfoy, because he could do with some crying right now.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **Here you are! Nothing particular for this chapter... Enjoy, and please review!

And when you're finished here, do not hesitate to check my other in-progress story "What Muggles don't know" ^^

They stand awkwardly in front of the fireplace, with their trunk and their embarrassment. Harry has to wait for Ron to pick him up and bring him to his flat. Draco tries to steel himself and to say the words out loud, because he has to, because they cannot part like that. Because if anything, Harry has at least to know how he feels.

"Harry... I'm sorry. It was wrong from me to try to make do something you're not ready to do. If you need anything, if you have questions or are not feeling well, or... anything, I'm still your Healer. Please do not hesitate to contact me. I promise I'd be less of an idiot. I'm shite with people, but I'm a fairly good Healer."

Harry watches him closely, his face unreadable. For the first time, Harry seems to be able to completely hide his feelings, just when Draco needs to know so badly it physically hurts a little. Draco thinks he sees something briefly flicker in the green eyes, but it's gone so quickly that he can't recognize the emotion. The Floo flares as Harry opens his mouth to answer, and Weasley is suddenly here, looking more relaxed than he has been in weeks. He greets Draco with a nod and a curiously sincere-looking smile.

"Malfoy. Ready, Harry?"

"Yes. See you, Draco."

Draco wants to snort, because he knows Harry won't want to see him ever again. It's fine. He'll be fine. He watches as the two friends step in the hearth, confidently leaning in each other like only longtime friends do. As Weasley shouts Harry's address, Draco casts the spell as quietly as he can.

He may have lost Harry's friendship, but that doesn't mean he cannot protect him, even from afar. Even if Harry doesn't know. Even, Draco thinks with a pang, even if Harry doesn't care.

Prince nudges his hand and Draco smiles bravely.

"Yes, Prince. Time to go home."

HP-HP-HP-HP

Fuck, but he's tired. The last few days have been madness, partly because of his long absence, but mostly because of the full moon. He'll have to find a way to modify slightly his Wolfsbane recipe too, because the little Jane is not doing well enough. Maybe the last batch was too strong for her? He needs to sleep first, he's too exhausted to work on anything right now anyway. The good thing when you're working nearly fourteen hours a day is that you're generally too busy to think about anything else than work at day, and too tired to think at all at night. Which is currently exactly what Draco needs. Lots of work and no time to think about himself. When has been his last meal, by the way? It smells very good in his flat and he wonders what-

Wait. Something is wrong. It shouldn't smell anything in his flat. He looks down at Prince, but the stupid dog is just waging his tail happily. Useless fleabag. Draco draws his wand and softly closes his front door. No need to put the neighbors at risk. He's sure his wards have not been breached. How the hell did they manage to get in? And who are they? He tries to walk as silently as possible through the dark living-room. There's light coming from the kitchen.

"Stay here, Prince." The whisper is barely audible but Prince obediently sits down, staring curiously at Draco.

One, two, three.

Draco jumps forward and opens the kitchen's door so hard that it bangs on the opposite wall. He's blinded by the too-bright light for a moment – he really has to change that lamp one day – and then he sees the intruder, just at the tip of his wand, looking at him with wide eyes, both hands raised before him in a sign of surrender. The man has an apron tied around his hips and something that looks like tomato sauce smeared on his right cheek. Harry stands in his kitchen, apparently cooking something. Fuck.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I should have thought about that, sorry."

Harry bits his lower lip, managing to look both annoyingly cute and disturbingly sexy.

"Draco? Are you alright? You look dead on your feet."

Honestly? Draco feels completely drained. He's actually swaying a bit and once again wondering when the hell he's eaten something for the last time.

"Come on, let's get you on the couch before you pass out. Did you eat something today? I expected you far earlier. Are you always working so late?"

"Full moon." Draco mutters, and then he gratefully collapses on the couch.

"Oh! Of course. Well, you should take care of yourself anyway. You won't be much use to your patients if you collapse from hunger or from lack of sleep."

"What are you doing here, harry?" Draco is rather proud that the words don't sound that slurred.

"Cooking you dinner." Harry replies matter-of-factly. "Nothing fancy, just a pasta dish. First you eat a bit, and then you'll sleep."

Harry disappears in a kitchen and comes back with two plates. He sets them on Draco's coffee table, and feeds Prince with something – the dog is apparently very happy to see the other man, if the joyful barks and the insistent nudges are any clue.

Draco has to admit it's good to eat something. It doesn't hurt that Harry is a damn fine cook. After a few bites, he looks up. Harry is watching him, a half-smile on his lips and a strangely warm expression on his handsome features. Fuck, just what Draco needs, really.

"Why are you here, Harry?"

"I wanted to apologize." Harry blushes, and pushes his food around with his fork. "I mean... I overreacted. I know you were only trying to do your job, and to help me, and you said you were sorry, and, well... I know you were. I'm just... so tired of people deciding for me that I was too angry to think. So, yeah, I'm sorry. And I'd like to have you back in my life. I miss you."

Salazar, but that man is a Gryffindor. Is he even aware of what weapons he's just given to Draco? Of how Draco could hurt him now, especially with the way Harry is looking at him with that earnest expression and all that hope practically radiating off him? But Draco knows he will not do anything to hurt Harry. Maybe because he knows Harry wouldn't hurt him. Maybe because this is what love feels like. An overwhelming need to protect and care for another human being, even against one's self-preservation sense.

Draco leans forward and softly wipes the tomato sauce from Harry's cheek with his index finger. Harry flushes a bit and his eyes widen, and Draco notices only then how long the black eyelashes are.

"Okay." Draco says, because he knows Harry will understand.

The dark man's smile is blinding and Draco finds himself grinning stupidly back. He's too tired to care. He'll worry about stupid feelings and dangerous smiles tomorrow.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Oh shit, he has somehow fallen asleep on his couch once again. How he's managed to Summon his blanket is a mystery, though.

Then the previous night comes back to his mind. Harry. The pasta dish. Prince. Well, shit. It smells like coffee and pancakes, and Draco hears muffled noises coming from the kitchen. Either Harry has come back to check on him this morning, or he has never left. Draco hopes he did not snore. Thankfully he's too tired to have nightmares these days. He makes his way to the kitchen, a bit self-conscious when he thinks about his clothes – from yesterday – and his hair – probably weirdly sticking up in all directions. Harry is singing softly to himself while cooking pancakes and patting Prince on the head from time to time.

"You're way too cheerful in the mornings, Harry."

The dark haired man startles badly and Draco smirks.

"You evil git!" Harry glares at him for only a moment before his gaze soften, and Draco wonders at the quick change. "Did you sleep well? You seemed comfortable enough yesterday, I had not the heart to move you, so..."

"Yes, I'm alright. Did you stay here?"

"Well, yes. I was worried you would just go to work this morning without eating anything."

Harry's cheeks become pink with his admission, but he doesn't lower his eyes.

"Today is Saturday. Unless there's a emergency, I stay home on Saturdays."

"Oh! Great. Then you've got time to have a real breakfast."

"Yes, Mother."

Harry sticks his tongue out rather childishly and Draco chuckles. As a plate of steaming eggs and pancakes and a mug of coffee are placed before him on the kitchen's counter, he fights the urge to tell Harry just how much he's glad for his presence.

Or worse, to show him.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **New chapter after a crazy week-end! Sorry for the delay... A quiet and a bit fluffy chapter. Next one will be rougher. R&R please!

"Shit, I've got to go or I'll be late."

"What? Where?"

Draco looks up from his second – or is it the third ? – cup of tea with a frown.

"To work." Harry smiles and stands up. "I usually volunteer to work on week-ends since I've got no family and nobody waiting for me at home."

There's no bitterness in his voice, but the flat matter-of-factly tone makes Draco wince. It shouldn't be that way. It's wrong to know Harry is almost as lonely as Draco is, because the dark haired man doesn't deserve this kind of life.

"Do you... I mean... Would you like to come with me? I'll be done in a few hours and then we could pick some fish and chips and eat somewhere outside, it's quite a nice warm day. If you want to, of course... Maybe you've got things planned or people to meet and I don't want to-"

"You're blabbling, Harry. Where is that damn shelter of yours? I need a shower, but I'll meet you there afterwards."

"Great! Great. Bring Prince with you, will you? I'm sure he'll be happy to play with new friends."

As Harry writes the address on a small piece of parchment, a huge grin on his face and nearly bouncing with excitement, Draco wonders how anyone could deny anything to that man. He seems so genuinely happy over the smallest things. And of course, there's this smile of his. That blinding, overwhelming smile that threatens to bring Draco down. That wonderful smile the blonde realizes he would do anything to put on Harry's face every day if he could.

Fuck. He has it bad.

HP-HP-HP-HP

And of course Draco has a fucking good time watching Harry at work. The damn Savior is at ease with all those animals, softly mumuring to some of them and playing with others. He keeps on talking to Draco, too, explaining what he's doing, where the animals come from, why this dog seems so shy or that cat wants to escape. He seems happy and talks animatedly, and Draco cannot help but thinking how good it is to see him like that. Prince follows Harry eagerly, and Draco struggles to keep a very embarrassing smile from his face. At noon Harry closes the shelter and joggs to buy some fish and chips from a local takeaway and Draco Apparates them away. Harry stumbles against him as they land, and then takes a suprised intake of breath when he discovers their new surroundings. Prince knows the place well enough and Draco lets him wander away.

"Where are we?"

"The gardens of Malfoy Manor. Well, what's left of them."

"It's beautiful."

"I think I like them better now than when they were well kept. There's some wildness now here, something more natural. It's... more pure, somehow." What the hell is he rambling about?

Harry watches him closely, his gaze soft, and if Draco was a bigger fool, he would say almost tender.

"Do you miss your home?"

"No. Shall we sit here?"

Harry nods and they begin to eat, the companionable silence only interrupted by Harry's soft laugh each time Prince comes back with joyful barks before running away again.

"Why are you working at the shelter?"

"Oh... There's not much I'm good at. I wasn't a particularly good student and whatever I learned isn't from much use in the Muggle world. I was looking for something useful to do. The shelter needed some volunteers to help them from time to time, so I thought I could try and see if they had any use of me. After a few times, they hired me to replace one of their employees, and here I am. I love it, I feel useful and I'm somewhat good at what I'm doing, so..."

Harry shrugs and Draco wonders why the Vanquisher of the Dark Lord has such a poor opinion of himself.

"Harry... I can't believe I'm actually about to say that. You're aware that you are a damn good wizard, aren't you? And that you were awesome at Quidditch? At flying in general, for that matter. You're a fantastic cook. And you're good not only with animals, but with people as well, even difficult people like me." Harry is looking at him, breathing a little too fast. "I don't know what those fucking relatives of yours have managed to make you believe, but that's wrong."

Harry opens and closes his mouth several times. A lovely blush colors his whole face and Draco wants to touch him so badly... He reaches out before he can think too much about it, cupping the other man's jaw and giving him what he hopes is a stern look.

"You could do anything you'd like, Harry. If you want to work for that shelter, then it's alright, but don't do it because you're somehow convinced there's nothing else you can do."

Draco lets his hand fall, because he doesn't want to frighten Harry now that he has his friendship back. And perhaps because he's a bit worried of the enticing scenarios his treacherous mind unhelpfully supplies him with, like the one where he just leans forward to taste Harry's lips. It would not do to get carried away. If only Harry didn't look so fucking handsome, with his flushed face and his messy hair and the way his damn muggle tee-shirt hugs his upper body in all the right places.

"Thank you, Draco. I like working there. But thank you."

"You're welcome."

Draco suddenly thinks of something, and he has to ask, because, well, it's something they both enjoyed as schoolboys.

"Fancy a bit of flying?"

Harry's eyes light up with excitement and Draco smiles.

The brooms in the garden shed are a bit old-fashioned but still good enough for what he has in mind, and soon they're both flying high in the sky, enjoying the warm afternoon and the feeling of freedom that only flying gives. Harry's as graceful and quick as he was in school, his small and toned body giving him the advantage over Draco, whose taller frame makes him loose speed.

Much later, as Draco is locking the garden shed again, with Harry laughing over Draco's unwillingness to amit defeat and Prince jumping around them madly, the blonde man realizes that it has been the best day he's spent in months. Maybe years, even.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Of course payback is a bitch. And such a lovely day with such a wonderful human being that somehow wants to be his friend means huge payback, as Draco is reminded the next day. He actually spits his tea all over his copy of the Daily Prophet. He can't believe it.

That's it. He's going to fucking kill that bastard.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **I'm not sorry for the cliffhanger - I wonder if some of you have guessed right! So, without further ado, here you are! R&R please!

A few hours and a tense Firecall with his mother later, Draco is still thinking about the best way to react when someone knocks on the door. Of course. He should have expected him.

"Come in, Harry, it's open."

There's suddenly a very flushed and very agitated Savior in his living-room, looking out of sorts and angry and altogether fucking adorable.

"Has he threatened you? You don't have to do it, you know. You should come live with me for a while, I'll protect you, and then we'll see what the Ministry can do, Ron already told me he's on your side and I think Kingsley would be willing to help us and of course Hermione will research wizarding laws. And perhaps we should-"

"Breathe, Harry, or you'll have a seizure."

Draco is torn between amusement and wonder. _I'll protect you_. Those are not just words, not with Harry being who he is. Not with the way his eyes are feverishly shining or the slight shaking of his hands. _I'll protect you._

"I didn't know you were still receiving the Prophet."

"I don't. Hermione called me this morning."

"Ah. Salazar saves me from Gryffindors."

"Please, Draco, you don't have to-"

"What do you take me for? Do you think I agreed to this?"

Harry looks petrified, the green eyes wide with surprise. It would be funny if Draco wasn't so angry.

"What do you mean? Did they organize this without your consent?"

"Of course they did! I've talked with my mother earlier, she didn't know about it either. Lucius will probably have a rough time today." Not that it will change anything, but it's still a comforting thought. Narcissa can be pretty frightening when she puts her mind to it, and Draco is definitely the best motivation for her. "I would never marry that fucking perverted asshole."

Harry seems a bit lost, all of a sudden, and he sits on the couch.

"I thought Nott had somehow managed to convince you or rather threaten you to accept. I've been so worried, I thought he was maybe still here and all I could see was him hurting you again and again. But then... Your father and him published that even if they know you will not do it?"

"Harry... You don't understand. They're both Purebloods from very old families. Announcing an engagement is a very serious matter. Once they have been published, engagements are almost never broken. It would be a shame for both families. Lucius and Theo have found a way to have what they want. Lucius' pride is salvaged, because even if I'm gay, I'm marrying a good little Pureblood, and one that will make me behave properly. And Theo gets me back, with the belief that he'll control me completely."

"But... What make them think you'll accept?"

"As I said, they're Purebloods. With this public announcement, they've basically outed me. They think the shame of it and the loyalty to my family will make me chose the only remaining honorable path. What they both fail to understand is that I don't give a fuck about their Pureblood pride anymore."

"What will you do, then? I know this look, you're scheming something."

"Of course I am. I'm still a Slytherin after all, and they've gone too far. Just because I'm not running around with my wand drawn like you would doesn't mean I will not do something to make them regret it."

"You're a bit scary, you know" Harry says with a chuckle. Draco puts his best shark-like smile on his face and Harry laughs harder. Who would have thought he would be the one to make Harry laugh like that? Who would have thought it would give him that warm and contented feeling?

Harry's smiling at him, and he raises a hand, gently pushing a strand of blond hair behind Draco's hair.

"Whatever it is you're planning to do, let me help you. I want to see Nott on his knees for what he's done to you."

The lump in Draco's throat is too big to allow him to speak, so he just nods, wondering if he'll ever get used to have Harry as his friend, looking at him like that and willing to protect him as fiercely as he's always done for the few ones he loves. It's humbling, and it's terrifying, and it's almost too intense. It's good, though, even with the growing need to flee and that depressing feeling of being so fucking unworthy.

"Harry... Are you available on Monday?"

"Yes, I usually don't work on Mondays since I take the week end shifts. Why?"

"There's this little girl, Jane. She's only eight. She's been bitten last year, and she's not doing so well. I've trouble adjusting her Wolfsbane potion and she's quite... fragile emotionally, too. I once talked to her about Professor Lupin, and she was really interested. If Harry Potter in the flesh could tell her about him, it would maybe do her some good, you know. Her parents as well. So, yes, if you think you can come with me to visit her, I'll be very grateful. I might even invite you for dinner afterwards" Draco adds with a smirk. Harry is watching him carefully, something Draco can't place briefly flashing in the green orbs.

"Of course, Draco. I'll be there."

A bit later, as Harry is leaving, he turns around, his hand on the doorknob. He looks up with a shy smile.

"If we're going out on Monday for dinner, could you please choose a Muggle place? I don't know if I could bear the whispers and the reporters who will certainly show up, especially if..."

"Especially if you're with me? Don't worry, I can understand that you don't want to be seen with me." Even if it's expected, Draco can't keep the bitterness from showing in his voice or the bile from rising in his throat.

"No, no, it's nothing like that. I just don't want you to have to face demented fans and rude photographers, that's all. With the announcement of your engagement, being seen with me in a restaurant would only make things harder on you. And I can't stand them all anyway."

"I know the perfect place, Harry. We won't be disturbed." Draco is suddenly aware of his fond smile and quickly wipes it from his face, hoping he's not blushing like a silly fan girl. "And for pity's sake, find something half decent to wear. Ask Hermione if you have to, but please spare me the faded jeans and tee-shirt look." Because Harry looks so fine in them that Draco needs every bit of self-control he possesses each time he sees him.

"Okay, you snobbish prat. I'll primp for our date, then."

And with that, Harry's gone, and the word "date" keeps echoing in Draco's mind for hours.

HP-HP-HP-HP

"Are you really Harry Potter?"

"Yes, I am." Harry smiles so gently at the little girl sitting on her twin-sized bed and hugging an old teddy bear that Draco instantly knows it's been a good idea to bring him. Jane's parents are still in the doorframe, rooted to the floor as they watch with wide eyes the Savior of the Wizarding World kneeling on the rug in front of their daughter.

"Is Draco your friend?"

"Yes, he is."

"You're lucky. Draco is the best doctor in the whole world, you know."

Harry turns around slightly and cocks his head to side, that amazing smile of his still on his lips.

"That he is. Did you know he healed me not long ago?"

"He's the best. He always makes the potions taste better for me and he kisses me better when I'm hurt. Did he kiss you better too?"

Harry chuckles and Draco feels his face heating at the thought of kissing Harry better. Fuck, it's hardly the time or the place to embarrass himself.

"I believe Draco told you about my friend Remus Lupin. Would you like to hear more about him? Yes? Wonderful. Remus was the kindest and sweetest man I've ever known. He was really brave as well, and a powerful wizard."

As Harry quietly tells Jane about Remus, Draco tries once more to reassure her parents and explains what changes he's made to her potion. After a few minutes, though, they all just stand here and silently listen to Harry. His voice is deep and soft, and conveys so many emotions that Draco is not sure how the dark haired man can bear to feel that much. To love that much.

Before he Apparates them both away a bit later, Draco takes Harry's hand.

"You okay?" he asks as gently as he's able to.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. It's painful to talk about him, but at the same time, I know he would have been happy and proud to help someone just with his memory."

"He was a good man."

"Yes."

"You're a good man too, Harry. Possibly too good."

Harry snorts but he doesn't resist when Draco awkwardly hugs him.

"Ready for our date?"

"Am I decent enough?"

Draco takes a step back and makes a show of looking at Harry from head to foot – as if he hasn't done it at least a hundred times this afternoon. Harry wears black trousers, black shoes and a very nice pale green button down shirt.

"You're perfect."

And he is. He's fucking perfect.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **Please enjoy this new chapter! It's somewhat bittersweet, but don't worry, it will get better. Well, first it will get worse and then better ^^ ! R&R please!

"Where are we?"

"Rome. You seem to have a weakness for Italian food and I know the perfect place."

Harry smiles softly and leans forward to whisper in Draco's ear.

"Is it really a date, then?"

Draco stops breathing. Is it? Does Harry mean he would be okay if it was? Could he be somehow interested in Draco, as crazy as the idea seems? Is Draco even willing to risk their friendship for something that might not work?

"I'm only joking, Draco. Come on, I'm starving. Where's that restaurant?"

Only joking. Of course.

"Just around the corner. It's called…"

Shit, Draco has not thought of that. Of course it will seem like the perfect place for a date. Well, it is, actually.

"Il Paradiso d'Amore?" Harry looks at the small restaurant with wide eyes. Fuck.

"Yes."

"Draco… Did you want it to be a date? Because I thought-"

"Don't flatter yourself, Harry. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I want to jump the Savior."

Harry takes a surprise intake of breath, and hurt is suddenly written all over his face. Double fuck. Of all the stupid and hurtful things to say. What the hell is wrong with him? Harry is looking ready to flee, all his confidence and happiness suddenly gone, with his eyes downcast and his fingers playing nervously with the sleeve of his button-down.

"I apologize. I'm not used to have this sort of friendship." Or any friendship at all, for that matter. "And old habits die hard. It's easier to get angry than to admit I'm embarrassed. I choose this restaurant because the food is amazing and nobody would recognize us. Your question about the date caught me off guard."

"It's okay. I shouldn't have insisted like that. You're just… you confuse me. I know you wouldn't want someone like me, I just… I don't know."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. Of course anyone with half a brain and eyes would want you. Shall we?"

They really have to get in the damn restaurant and order and eat and do what the hell they're supposed to do because the last thing Draco needs is to think about Harry and people wanting him and the disarming look in his eyes and the smile on those fucking soft-looking lips.

They wait for their order talking about thousands meaningless things and laughing about the way their waitress makes wide movements with her hands while talking in a fast and joyful Italian even if they don't understand a single word. The food is as amazing as expected but Draco has a hard time tasting anything. Harry keeps on making little moans of delight and he licks his spoon when he eats his tiramisu and Salazar, but Draco just wants the evening to end.

As they make their way out of the restaurant, Harry is swaying a bit and Draco suspects he's not used to drink wine. The red wine they've had with their meal was really good and Harry obviously liked it a lot.

"Harry? Are you drunk?"

"No. 'M just feelin' a bit warm."

Draco chuckles and Harry looks at him with an enormous grin and too-shiny eyes. Draco takes his arm and shakes his head.

"Come on, then. I'll take you home before you get lost in Rome."

Draco Apparates them both in his flat, because he has no idea where Harry lives and he doesn't want to walk through London until the dark haired man remembers the name of his street. Harry stumbles as usual and Draco catches him by his shoulders, nearly laughing at his friend's clumsiness. He doesn't have the opportunity to do so, though, because Harry takes a step forward and hugs him tightly, nuzzling his face against Draco's neck.

"Draco…" Merlin, but the feeling of the other man's lips against his skin makes him shiver. "If this was a date… would you kiss me? Would you want to?"

Oh fuck. Only Harry could ask such a question. There's a shuddering uncertainty in his voice and Draco know he cannot lie.

"Probably, Harry. If you wanted me to, I would."

"But do you want to? Are you… attracted to me?"

If he is attracted to Harry? Attracted doesn't even begin to describe how he feels. Draco closes his eyes, and nods.

"Yes Harry. I am."

Harry turns his head slightly, and fastens his lips over Draco's. The kiss is all Harry. Brave and straightforward and tender and a bit awkward, too. Draco's mouth answers on its own, it seems – it probably got tired waiting for Draco's brains to understand the new development and come to a decision.

Draco knows he shouldn't allow this. He shouldn't because Harry is drunk and probably doesn't know what he's doing – or maybe he wants to experiment a bit. He shouldn't because it feels amazing, to have Harry in his arms and to feel his lips and tongue on his and it's way too dangerous – and Salazar, the little sounds Harry makes are nearly enough to make him lose his mind. It's hard to pull away, though.

"Harry, stop. You will regret this tomorrow. Please. I can't lose your friendship, Harry. I can't. Please." Fuck, are there tears in his eyes?

Green eyes suddenly snap open and study him closely. He suddenly seems soberer.

"Draco? What's wrong? I thought you… You said… Oh no, you don't actually… Merlin, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry…"

The idiot somehow takes a step back and Apparates away before Draco can say anything else. How has he even managed to gather enough magic to do it? Hopefully he has not Splinched himself in his haste to get away.

He shouldn't have said anything. He could have done it. He could have given himself to Harry, just for one night, and kept the memory locked somewhere in a dark corner of his brains afterwards. He could have convinced Harry that one drunken night didn't mean anything and that they could remain friends. Because it's all they ever can be – it's already a miracle.

Hopefully Harry won't remember too much, or maybe he won't care and they'll go on as if nothing happened.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Apparently Harry remembers. And apparently he's so disgusted with Draco that he doesn't want to talk to him. It's been two days and he still hasn't heard anything from him. He doesn't dare sending him an owl or going to the shelter to see him. Weasley has sent him an owl today. Draco has destroyed the parchment without reading it – he doesn't want to read anything about what happened if it doesn't come from Harry. He knows he's deluding himself, but he'll probably be foolish enough not to believe the words coming from anyone but the dark-haired man. He somehow still hopes they can remain friends.

The memory of their kiss haunts him day and night - he doesn't know when it's the worse, honestly.

Draco learns something about Harry the third day, but it's not in the way he has hoped it would come. His wand suddenly glows. The protective Charm he's placed on Harry the day they left Grimmauld Place is activated. Which can only mean one thing.

Harry's life is threatened.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN:**And here we are! You'll know what happened to Harry - additionnal warning for this chapter: mentions of a past abusive relationship, insane character and violence (both psychological and physical). Thanks for the reviews, and give me more!

Hermione's head appears in the flames and Draco sighs with relief.

"Sorry, Draco, I've some difficulties to move with my belly. What's wrong? You seem out of sorts."

"It's Harry. Do you know where he is?"

"Did you get Ron's owl?"

Draco flushes a bit.

"Yes. I did not read the letter, though."

"Because it was from Ron?"

"Because it was not from Harry."

Hermione shakes her head with a smile.

"You make quite the pair, you two. Strong-willed and brave, but stupidly stubborn. Harry has been quite distraught after your... date. He said he kissed you against your will. I think he's a bit confused, actually."

"He didn't, I just..." Shit. Draco closes his eyes. "He didn't. He was a bit drunk and I didn't want him to do things he would regret, that's all."

"I thought so. Well, anyway, he has spent the last two days here, sleeping on our couch and overthinking things. He's left this morning to go to work. Why do you ask?"

"I cast a Protective Charm on him just before we left Grimmauld Place. It's been activated an hour ago."

"Damn. Life threatening situations only, I suppose?"

"Yes."

"Look, I'm going to fire call Ron at work right away. Can you check at the shelter in the meantime? And then go meet Ron at Harry's flat. It's in the same street, number 23."

"Okay. Thank you, Hermione."

"Be careful, Draco. Don't do anything on your own, Ron will be here shortly with back-up if necessary."

Draco nods and shut the connection. He has no intention to wait for Weasley if he finds Harry, though. He will not allow for him to get hurt again. Hopefully it's not too late, he thinks with a painful twist of his gut. Hopefully it's not too late.

HP-HP-HP-HP

No one at the shelter has seen Harry this morning. Draco jogs to reach the number 23, cursing under his breath for not being able to simply Apparate in Harry's flat. Weasley is nowhere to be seen, and after a minute or two only, Draco cannot wait any longer. There are only four flats in the house, and he knows Harry's is on the upper floor. The stairs are cracking annoyingly under his feet and he really hopes nobody is in Harry's flat, because there is no way they could have not heard him.

Draco finally reaches Harry's door and tries to listen through the wood, but it's perfectly silent. Maybe Harry isn't there. Or maybe, a little voice whispers in his head, maybe he's in there bleeding and injured and praying for help, and you're just here standing in the hallway like an idiot. Draco opens the door with a murmured Alohomora and steps in.

Harry is standing there, his back to Draco. And in the couch sits Theo, his wand pointed on Harry – whose stiff posture makes more sense now – and a dangerous smile on his lips.

"Ah, Draco. Just the man we were waiting for. Close the door, please."

Draco does as requested, hoping to hell Weasley will not wait for him outside as planned but barge in like the good Gryffindor he is. Draco takes a few steps forward, so that he stands just next to Harry. He wants to be able to protect him, if it comes to that – and with the mad light in Theo's eyes, there is little doubt that it will.

"I did not find that little interview of yours very amusing, Draco."

"Oh, so you read it? I thought it would be only fitting to retaliate this way. And I'm sure the Prophet's readers are more than happy to learn more about you or about my father, really. Did you really both think I would agree to your little plan? That I would be a good boy and marry you, of all people? I'd rather marry V-Voldemort's rotting corpse, you asshole."

Harry snorts besides him and Draco feels rather proud of himself.

"Oh, Draco. You have no idea what you've got yourself into. I'm not someone you can just say no to, and neither is your father. I think Potter has messed up with your mind, love."

"Don't call me that, Theo."

"Why? Is this what he calls you? Did you let him fuck you, Draco? Did you believe his sweet words, believe he would take care of you? Of course not. He's the Savior. He would never have a real relationship with you, Draco. He may want to have some fun with you for a while, but then he'll let you down. But I will not. You will marry me and I will always be there, you know that."

"You're really full of shit, Theo."

He has to focus. Theo's words are not important, nothing that comes out of his mouths really matters. Even if it was true, the only thing that matters it that Harry and he come out of there as quickly as possible.

"Anyway, I was sure you would come to the Golden Boy's rescue sooner or later – why he hasn't his wand with him is a mystery. I wonder how you could defeat the Dark Lord, Potter. I'm tempted to kill you for touching what's mine, but-"

"Draco isn't yours, Nott."

"Oh. And you think he's yours?"

"No."

Draco feels the sharp pain in his chest, but it doesn't matter. Nothing does, nothing but getting Harry away from Theo.

"He doesn't belong to anyone. He's not a bloody thing, you perverted bastard. He's his own man."

"Oh, the noble and brave Harry Potter in all his glory. Too bad you've somehow lost your wand, isn't it? Well, let's see what you're going to think of your precious Draco once I'm done with him. After all, he's nothing but a pretty face. Aren't you, Draco? And I'll make sure nobody will ever want you after that, Draco. Nobody will ever have you but me, do you understand?"

Theo Stupefies Harry before Draco can even react, and the dark haired man falls to the ground, his head banging loudly on the wooden floor. The laugh of his former lover makes Draco shiver – Merlin, but he's completely mad. How could Draco have not seen it earlier? He should hex him now, but his brain stays frozen and all he can do is look from Harry to Theo with wide eyes, wondering when the hell everything has gone so wrong. Theo Summons something – seems like a bottle with a clear substance in it.

"Do you know what's in this, Draco?"

Draco shakes his head, unable to answer.

"Acid. Muggle acid. Not quite as stupid as one would think, those Muggles. Expelliarmus! Oh, really Draco? I'm disappointed with you. Well, now that I have all your attention, I will explain exactly what I'm going to do. I will burn your handsome face with acid, Draco. Burn it until you're so damaged that nobody will be able to just look at you. How do you think the Golden Boy here will react when he'll see you? Maybe I should burn him too, after all. Would serve him right."

"Leave him out of this, Theo. It's me you want."

"Is he really that good, Draco? Or is it his power you're craving? His fame? His money?"

"I love him! But I don't expect you to understand!"

Draco is panting, barely believing what he has just said. Fuck. Does he really love Harry? Fuck, fuck fuck. He can see Harry stir slightly from the corner of his eye, and he knows he has to distract Theo.

"Leave him alone, Theo, and I'll come with you willingly. Please."

Theo laughs and opens the glass bottle. Draco closes his eyes and something suddenly slams into him, sending him to the ground as the flat's door explodes behind them. There's a scream of pain, and then shouted hexes and the sound of broken glass. Draco raises his head just long enough to see that the warm body sprawled on him belongs to Harry, judging from the wild dark hair. His back hurts like hell and Draco is actually relieved to pass out.


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **Here you go! Probably two more chapters after this one! As usual, please review, you have no idea how happy it makes me to get reviews ^^

White, white, and white. Everything is white, and it smells like potions and disinfecting lotion. St Mungo's. Draco experimentally moves his legs and arms. Everything seems to be alright, at least.

"Good Morning, Draco. How do you feel?"

"Hermione. I'm feeling quite alright, actually- holy shit! When did this happen?"

"Yesterday. Apparently the stress concerning Harry and you was all it took. Rose, that's Uncle Draco."

Draco can't help but smile. It might be possible that the word "uncle" actually makes his chest ache a little. Hermione is in the chair next to his bed, a small bundle with red hair in her arms. She looks tired but she's glowing with happiness.

"She's a beauty – even if she didn't escape the Weasley hair, I see."

"Draco."

"Alright, alright. Why are you here?"

"I wanted to escape Ron's family for a while – I love them all but they can be a bit overwhelming, you know. And I wanted to see you."

"Where's Harry? Is he alright?"

Hermione bits her lower lip and seems to hesitate.

"Hermione?"

"He'll be okay. Your parents are here, Draco – actually your mother has been here all night, she'll be quite relieved to see you well. Your father and Harry had… hum… a few words together earlier. Harry's magic is back and he has somehow Stunned your father so strongly that he's still unconscious, but the Healers say he'll be alright."

"Well, shit. I'm sorry I missed that. And where's Harry now?"

"I don't know. He asked me to let you know that your father shouldn't be a problem as for now, and that he hopes you'll heal alright."

Draco's head is spinning a little. So Harry's okay and his magic is back, he's managed to hex Lucius and he's gone. Draco has absolutely no idea what to make of all that. He watches as Hermione rocks her newborn daughter softly, a look of sadness on her face.

"Hermione, what aren't you telling me?"

"Draco… When Harry jumped and sent you both to the ground, he managed to cast a Protego – it was probably pure instinct. But… It was wandless and probably wordless, and Harry had not used any magic in a very long time. His Protego wasn't strong enough. Harry got some of the acid Nott threw at you on him."

Draco is afraid to ask, but he has to know. He has to know exactly what his stupidity has cost to Harry.

"Where?"

HP-HP-HP-HP

Draco knew Harry would be here. He's kneeling in front of a fat ginger cat with yellow eyes – it doesn't look very friendly, actually. Harry is softly whispering to him, not making any move, just standing his ground. He's so focused on his task that he doesn't hear Draco – but the cat does, and quickly hides behind a cardboard box. Harry sighs explosively, but doesn't turn around.

"You're awfully presumptuous, aren't you Harry?"

The strong shoulders stiffen and Harry slowly stands up, his back still to Draco.

"How did you find me?"

"I knew you would be here. It doesn't take a genius to know where you would go. This shelter is probably more a home to you than your flat is, and I doubt you would go home with what happened yesterday."

"I'm sorry for your father, if that's why you're here."

Draco actually doesn't care at all for Lucius, but his curiosity gets the best of him.

"What happened?"

"I asked him to let you live your life as you see fit. To let you make your own choices. He said… He said something that made me angry and I stunned him. It got wrong, somehow, I don't know why…"

Draco laughs.

"Serves the bastard right. I'm glad you did it, Harry. Hopefully Lucius will stay like that for a day or two. Will you look at me now, Harry?"

"I'd prefer not to. I-"

"How bloody shallow do you think I am, Harry? Didn't you hear what I said yesterday to Theo? I meant it, you know."

Harry doesn't answer, and Draco begins to feel really angry.

"Hermione told me you were worried because I made you primp for our date and you thought that I wouldn't want to see you now. Does that mean you would want to see me?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"Like hell it doesn't, Harry. I can't believe you'd think that I-"

Harry has turned around. Fuck. The right side of his face is marred with round and red burns. A piece of his eyebrow is missing, and a long scar runs along his neck. Draco refrains from flinching, but barely – years with his father and the Dark Lord have at least teached him to hide his feelings when it's needed.

"See? I think you should go now, Draco."

But Draco raises his hand and touches Harry's cheek.

"Does it hurt? I'm so sorry, Harry."

"No, it doesn't. The Healers have done what they could. And it wasn't your fault. Just go, now."

"You really think you'll be rid of me like that? If you don't want to see me, if you hold me responsible for what happened, I can understand that. Merlin knows I feel guilty. But if you push me away because you somehow are convinced to know what I'm thinking, then I'll have to punch you, you idiot."

"Can you honestly tell me it doesn't change anything? I know you like beautiful things, and beautiful men, Draco."

"You really are going to make me say it again, aren't you?"

"What?"

Harry looks lost, and Draco smiles a little at the familiar expression. Draco cups the Savior's face with both hands, scarred skin and smooth skin alike.

"You're right, it changes things. Because I feel guilty and I'm so sorry you had to go through that because of me. Because it makes me angry that you'll always be remembered of that day. But it doesn't change what I feel for you, you daft prick. It just makes me love you harder, because you just jumped in front of me, you protected me like I'm worth it. I've got scars of my own, you know. I told you about my father and the Sectumsempra sessions. If you don't want me, just say so. I'm not sure if you were interested in the first place anyway. But if… if somehow you-"

Harry kisses him. His lips are pressed too hard on Draco's and his hands are clenched in his hair painfully, and something breaks inside of him and shatters in millions pieces and he knows he'll never be whole again without this, without Harry. And suddenly it doesn't matter anymore if Harry loves him back, as long as he's willing to try. As long as he gives Draco a chance to prove him he's worth it. Harry pulls back, and takes Draco in a tight hug.

"Does that mean you'll say yes if I ask you to cook us some dinner tonight at home?"

Harry chuckles quietly against his shoulder.

"I've been an idiot. I… I thought…"

"You thought I was still the pompous arse I was in school and that I was only interested in your good looks. Which, if I might say so, have only improved. You've got this exciting air of danger around you now that will drive women crazy."

"I'm sorry. And yes, I'll come tonight."

"Was that an innuendo, Harry?"

Harry blushes crimson and Draco smiles fondly. Shit, he's smiling fondly. He didn't even know he could do that.

"I'm not sure if…"

"Harry, it's okay. It's okay if you want to go slow. It's okay if you want us just to be friends."

"Did you really mean it?"

Draco tightens his hold on the other man, breathing in his scent deeply and wishing he knew how to make people fall in love. Wishing he could keep Harry.

"Yes, I meant it. I love you. And it's okay if you don't, as well. I… Look, I'm aware I'm not the person you need or you want, but maybe…"

"Draco, stop. I think you're exactly what I need, on the contrary. You make me feel safe and wanted, you make me laugh and feel… normal."

It's so much more than Draco has hoped for that he actually stumbles a little. Harry giggle ridiculously and catches him.

"How is your back, by the way?"

"Oh! Just fine, actually. I just injured my spine when you foolishly jumped on me. You're not exactly a light weight, you know. Well, anyway, they got it fixed alright. I'm as good as new."

"Great. I've been worried. And did you just call me fat?"

Draco raises an eyebrow and Harry laughs, the scarred skin of his neck and face stretching a bit weirdly. And that's alright. And when they left the shelter, Harry clumsily takes Draco's arm, a silly grin on his lips, and it's alright.


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

**AN: **Here you are! I hope you'll enjoy this one too, and please, please leave me some reviews ^^ !

Draco watches as Harry takes the groceries he has just bought out of the plastic bags – apparently what Draco has in his kitchen is not good enough to be called food. Prince is bouncing happily around him, begging to be petted. The golden retriever finally sits at Draco's feet, nudging his right hand insistently with his snout.

"Hermione told me you came here to feed Prince while I was out. Thanks for that."

"No problem. Couldn't let the boy starve, could I? Speaking of which, I think I'll cook us homemade pizza tonight. Alright with you?"

"Yes, Harry. So, what did Lucius tell you to make you that angry? I must admit that I'm curious."

Harry freezes, his hands tightly clenched on the kitchen's counter.

"He said... things about you."

Draco stares.

"What things, Harry?"

"I don't think you want to hear them."

Harry stubbornly looks at his hands, a pained expression on his handsome features - the scars only enhance the strong jaw, the beautiful eyes and the soft-looking lips. Draco smiles and steps forward, touching his forearm lightly.

"Harry... Nothing he could say about me can hurt me anymore. I've lost enough years of my life trying to please him, trying to be what he wanted me to be. It's over."

Harry closes his eyes, as if trying to remember the words.

"He said... he said you've had what you deserved. He said you were a disgrace, that he was ashamed to be your father, to be the father of a shirt-lifter. He... he said you should have died." Harry is shaking slightly, and magic is crackling around them wildly. Draco wonders if Harry knows it. He can't help but shiver with a mix of pleasure and fear – Salazar, but the man is powerful. "Your mother was crying, and I... I saw red. It's a bit blurred after that, but your father was lying on the ground and, well."

"It's alright, Harry."

"No, it's not. That's why I don't want to use magic anymore. I'm actually upset to have it back, Draco! I could have hurt him! I could have killed him!"

Draco bits his lip to refrain from answering 'good riddance' because as much as he means it, it's not what Harry needs to hear.

"Of course not, Harry. You're not a killer, not like that. Yes, you were angry, and yes, your magic went a bit bersek. But there's something very important with magic: intent. What you really want to do is more important than the words you're saying, more important than the spell you're casting."

"I wanted to hurt him."

The words are whispered, but Harry looks at him with something challenging in his eyes. Draco smirks and wraps his arms around the dark haired man's waist.

"Really? Because it doesn't seem that way, you know. Not when Lucius was just Stunned. Granted, the spell was a bit strong, but it's not a spell aimed to hurt. You didn't Crucio him. You didn't use Sectumsempra. You didn't even punch the bastard in the face, as much as he deserves it. Look at me, Harry. You're a good man, with good intentions and a deep understanding of right and wrong. I for one am slightly disappointed that Lucius is well. Don't beat yourself over it, it's not worth it. And don't think for one second you're dangerous, because you're not."

He feels Harry rest his forehead on his shoulder, and he rubs the other man's back until the shaking subsides.

"You okay?"

"Yes. It was a bit scary, to feel my magic like that, to use it again. For a moment I thought... I thought he was dead. I thought I had killed him..."

"It's alright, you didn't. I don't think you could, Harry, not without a real threat. We'll work on your magic, we'll try to make you more confident about it, if that makes you feel better, okay? Now I believe you said something about pizza?"

Harry raises his head and grins, and Draco releases him.

"Need some help?"

"I thought you didn't know how to cook?"

"I don't. But I could learn. You could teach me."

Harry's smile is warm and his gaze is so soft, so tender that Draco feels out of place for a moment, because he doesn't deserve that kind of look, does he? But it's him Harry's looking at, it's him Harry hugs briefly before explaining something about tomato sauce and onions. It's him, and the fact is humbling and scary, and it's chilling and wonderful.

HP-HP-HP-HP

It's probably a very bad idea to go that far so soon, but as Harry slips his tight between his legs, Draco cannot bring himself to care. Maybe it's because of the almost reverent way Harry is touching and kissing him. Maybe it's because of the soft words he keeps on saying, with his lips against Draco's skin, making him shiver and want for more. Maybe it's simply because he's in love.

Soon enough there's not much to think about, because heat is choking him and lust is blinding him and Harry is everywhere, holding him, caressing him, and soothing him with whispered sweet nothings and warm hands. And beneath all the want and the frantic need, Draco can feel his love for Harry, his chest constricting painfully with force of it.

As he slowly drifts to sleep afterwards, wrapped around Harry and feeling the strong arms around him, Draco makes a wish, closing his eyes tightly. Hopefully this time someone will listen.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Apparently he has been too optimistic. Harry's gone.

Of course. What a fucking idiot he has been. Will he ever learn? To his shame, there are tears in his eyes and he feels more desperate that angry. If anything, he's more angry at himself for believing Harry would be different. For believing he could have something like that, someone like Harry at his side. But Harry has used him, like everyone ever does. He cannot believe he's been stupid enough not to see it. Draco can't help but hug the pillow next to him, breathing in the faint scent that lingers there – Harry. Fuck.

"Draco? Are you alright?"

Draco nearly jumps, and sits up in the bed. Harry is standing in the doorway, looking worried. He's holding a brown paper bag in a hand and two paper cups in the other. Draco feels like sobbing in relief. Which he doesn't, of course.

"I thought... I... Nevermind. Did you bring us breakfast?"

Harry smiles gently and sits next to Draco, carefully setting his purchases on the bed. Then he kisses Draco, long and slow, until Prince barges in with a joyful bark. Harry chuckles and leans forward to whisper in the blonde's ear.

"I think I'll stay."


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Violence, and mentions of past child abuse

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"Draco... Are you ashamed of me?"

"What?" Draco raises his head from where it's been resting for the last ten minutes or so, on Harry's warm chest. "Why the hell are you thinking such a thing?"

"Because..." Harry bits his lip and frowns, and Draco curses himself for finding even that expression adorable on Harry. "You never come with me. It's been five months, Draco, and I've been more and more in the wizarding world, and you always decline. Yesterday I went to meet Neville and Ron in that new pub, and you said you were tired. I know you weren't, Draco, and I know you're going regularly to Diagon Alley, to shop. But you're always going alone, and you never ask if I'd like to go with you. So, are you ashamed of me? Or of our relationship?"

Draco sits up, trying to think of something to say. Of course he's not ashamed. He's happier than he can remember ever being, and things are surprisingly easy with Harry. Harry is doing well, too, slowly getting used to his magic again, and meeting with friends or with the Weasley family at least once a week. Their respective jobs keep them busy, but there's always this warm feeling when either of them get home and find the other waiting for him. Harry takes Prince to work with him almost every day, and Harry holds Draco when nightmares disturb his sleep, and Harry says Draco is a great Healer and takes care of him when he's too exhausted to stand on his own on late evenings.

Draco is suddenly reminded of their current discussion when Harry whispers quietly.

"Is it because of the scars?"

Draco looks up to see Harry's eyes filled with pain and he shakes his head, taking the dark haired man's hands in his own.

"Of course not. It's just... I'm not ashamed of you, never think that. I just don't want people to see us together, because I know what they'll say and I know they're right."

Harry doesn't seem to understand, and Draco kiss the back of his right hand and prays for strength.

"Harry... I'm a Death Eater. I'm a pariah in the Wizarding World, even for Purebloods since I've publicly disobeyed my father. And I'm a man. I don't want you to have to face hate mails and whispers and people turning their back on you when you're just having it all back."

Harry's frown deepens almost comically.

"So, what? You're planning to hide for the rest of your life?"

"I just want to protect you."

"I don't need protection. I don't know if you remember, but I killed a very dark lord. Nasty sort, that one. And the only people I care about won't be turning their backs on me, because they already know and are happy for me. For us."

"Harry-"

Harry's glare stops him and suddenly he's lying flat on his back, with Harry looming over him with a gleam in his eyes that usually means trouble.

"I want you to have dinner with me tonight. Not here. Out. I'll take care of everything. Just be ready at seven."

"It's a very bad idea, Harry, please, listen to me, we can have a nice dinner here instead and-"

"I'm tired of eating take-away in your couch, Draco. That's not a real date. And Hermione told me about a fantastic restaurant she's discovered with Ron. It's in wizarding London, so you can wear robes if you like."

Draco closes his eyes. Fuck, but it hurts. Of course Harry's tired of being trapped in Draco's flat. Of course he'd like to have a normal lover.

"Draco, don't do that. Fuck, don't cry, love."

Is he crying? Yes, he is. Harry gently takes him in his arms, moving carefully until they're lying face to face.

"Hey. Look at me. I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you that way. Just... I don't understand, okay? I don't care what people say about me. You shouldn't either. They can send me all the Howlers they want. I love you, I want you to be happy and I don't want us to hide. I want to go out and have fun and have a taste of what it's like to be like everyone else, you know?"

"You can't have that with me. You should... You should find someone else."

"Draco, I'm serious. Don't tell me what I have to do. You know how I feel about that."

"Sorry."

"And stop being sorry. I don't want anyone else. You know what? I cancel our date tonight."

Draco releases a shuddering breath and nods. Harry has changed his mind.

"No need to look so relieved. Is the perspective of a date with me so horrifying?" Draco chuckles weakly and Harry kisses his face, everywhere, little butterfly kisses that makes Draco wants to say stupid things because it's too much, all that tenderness, and surely it shouldn't be wasted on him.

"Anyway, it's only delayed. I think we'll go tomorrow evening, if everything goes my way."

"Harry? Wait, wait, wait! What are you planning to do now? And I didn't agree for tomorrow!"

"True. But I think I know how to make you say yes..."

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"Harry, I'm going to kill you."

"You probably shouldn't say that out loud, love."

Harry smiles sweetly and Draco barely refrains to punch the idiot in the face. Honestly. Luna Lovegood is looking at them with big dreaming eyes and she's writing restlessly in her notebook. Longbottom has taken a picture of the two of them earlier – and he didn't seem worried in the slightest when Draco threatened to hex him. Draco is losing his touch.

"I think I've got it all, Harry. It'll be released tomorrow as a special edition."

"Thanks, Luna. You're doing me a great favor."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. I'll probably sell more copies of this than I usually do in a whole year."

Harry smiles and hugs her tightly, and then she and Longbottom are gone.

"I can't believe you're doing that, Harry. Please, you have to reconsider-"

"No, Draco. There's nothing to reconsider. I love you, I hope you love me, and I've only ensured that no one will harm you for being with me."

"Of course I love you. Even when you do stupid gryffindorish things like that."

"You love that, admit it."

Draco makes Harry shut up by kissing him. He would never admit it out loud, but he does love that.

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"There are reporters with cameras on the other side of the street, Harry."

"Of course. Don't worry, you hair is perfect."

"And yours looks as bad as usual, but that's not what I'm worried about!"

"For fuck's sake, Draco! Stop it! How are we supposed to enjoy any of this if you're constantly worrying about what people we don't even know will say about us!"

Draco is a bit taken aback by the outburst, but he knows Harry's right. And he's aware of what their argument in the middle of the street will look like on pictures. And that will hurt Harry more than anything, because he's worked so hard to prove Draco they could be a couple, that they could be happy together and stop hiding. He's even wearing a suit, and Draco knows he doesn't like that, and he knows he's done it only for Draco, and his hair doesn't look bad at all, because it's him and it suits him and Draco wouldn't want his hair to look another way.

Before he knows it, he's kneeling on the wet pavement – and he almost doesn't think about his ruined trousers, almost doesn't think about Prince's nudging the back of his head curiously – and he's taking his lover's hand and looking into wide, wide green eyes.

"Harry, would you marry me?"

"What?"

Fuck, that's not the answer he's been waiting for. But Harry still looks completely stunned, so maybe he doesn't understand?

"Marry me?"

"Are you serious?"

"Er... yes?"

"Fuck, Draco... You... Fuck..."

"Could you maybe answer with more 'yes' or 'no' and less 'fuck' because I'm ruining my bloody trousers right now and there are reporters taking dozens of pictures of us like that and if you're going to refuse please make it quick-"

Harry kneels in front of him and kisses him deeply, and then he pulls back and takes Draco's face in his hands, and finally, finally, he speaks.  
"Yes, fuck, yes Draco."

Prince barks joyfully besides them and Draco silently thanks him for finding Harry and forcing Draco to make the right choice, a few months ago.

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**AN: and this is the end! Thank you so much to all my reviewers and followers, you've been amazing as always! I've already started a new story, called "It should have been simple enough", with a new pairing. I hope you'll like it as well! Take care of yourselves!**


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